


Pramantha

by na_scathach



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Leo Valdez, Child Death, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Exploration of Leo's powers, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Loss of Powers, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mythology - Freeform, No Calypso, Reincarnation, Self-Harm, i will be fucking with mythology and HoH so be warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2019-11-24 07:31:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18162869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/na_scathach/pseuds/na_scathach
Summary: Fire.That was Leo’s legacy. His Past, Present, and Future have always been covered in flames.After Percy and Annabeth descend into Tartarus, a guilty Leo begins to become unstable, blaming himself for their falling. And the more unstable he becomes, the more dangerous he becomes.With unexplored and unexplained powers that barely work anymore, a shaky sense of self and voices whispering at the back of his subconscious that he is to blame for everything, Leo Valdez is spiraling downwards.Doesn't help that his feelings for Jason Grace are still there, always a persistent heat in the background of his mind.Of course, the auditory and visual hallucinations of dead kids are a pretty big indicator that Leo’s pretty far gone, but he’s hoping that if he ignores them they’ll go away.Hopefully(An AU of HoH, where Leo's powers have a much sinister and significant history, which leads to a ripple effect, throwing everything off course, into the unknown)





	1. The hills are alive with the sound of murderous rock gods and dead English kids

**Author's Note:**

> im dumb, but what's new folks 
> 
> I'm starting on a new story. It's a AU of hoh where Leo's powers play a larger role and his powers are explored more because the way Leo's powers work and their history is super-interesting to moi. because it's an AU shits going to get weirder the further we go, so buckle y'all'ses seatbelts and on we go.
> 
> Btw, eventual Valgrace so heed the old saying "don't like don't read". also there will be no piper-bashing

 

They…...They were _gone._

Because of Leo.

Oh, gods, what has he _done._

His skin felt detached from his actual body, like a layer of cotton separated his mind from his bones and he was basically moving on autopilot. Flip a switch here, toggle a stick here and try not to cry. Easy as Pie. Keep the ship going. That's all he seemed to be useful for anyways. Keeping moving, keep running, don’t let the sadness catch up. The deck was blissfully empty, with Hazel and Frank taking care of her 2006-Era Gerard Way look-a-like brother, who was passed out cold below deck. Jason and Piper, he didn’t know, but they weren’t on deck, which suited him _fine._ He lifted his head from the control console to look at the sky, which was mottled with what looked like scattered pieces of a diamond. He could see most of the constellations, making bright patterns across the sky. He could even see the Milky Way.

Leo felt like he’d been awake for weeks. Maybe he had been. Leo was not one to keep track of his sleep schedules. If he slept, he slept. If he didn’t, he didn’t. Simple as.

But this was a whole different kind of sadness, a different kind of tiredness. It was like every other emotion had been dragged out of him, leaving him feeling like a gutted car. Like someone had robbed his metaphorical engine.

His eyes wandered of their own accord across the sky, taking in each constellation as he thought.

 

_Cassiopeia? Maybe…_

 

_Pegasus…_

 

_Andromeda…_

 

_Perseus-_

 

His eyes caught on that one. Perseus. Percy. He couldn’t move away. His hands tightened into fights, pushing his blunt nails into the meat of his palm.

He’d made a deal with _El Diablo._ Now, he was paying the price. An eye for an eye. A couple for a couple. But was he paying the price?. He wasn’t the one falling into Greek Hell right now. Instead, he was hung up on a constellation while two of the strongest, kindest people he knew were going to hell. Because he wasn’t smart enough to figure out the Sphere. Wasn’t quick enough. Wasn’t strong enough.

 

 _‘They were high up, it was cold, that’s why I’m shaking,’_ was what he told himself.

 

“Valdez, go get some sleep, you look like you’re about to keel over,” Coach said, his voice gravelly. Leo tried to suppress his flinch at the sudden arrival of Coach Hedge and quickly dragged the back of his hand across his eyes, roughly wiping away any evidence. “Hey, Coach,” Leo greeted as he turned to meet him. He tried for a small smile, but even that performance seemed to be malfunctioning, so he left his face carefully neutral. “Sleep, Cupcake,” Coach said, leaving no room for arguments as he bodily pushed Leo away from the console. “I can handle any attacks while you take 5,” Coach assured, lifting his bat onto his shoulder.

Leo barely noticed the tension shimmering around Hedge, the way he seemed slightly hunched like he had the world balanced on his shoulders.

He was selfish for thinking he was the only one affected by the…..fall. He almost protested too, almost pushed Hedge aside and gave some stupid lie as to why he just _had to_ stay up, but.

But.

Leo felt dead. He felt like an extra out of The Walking Dead and his mind and body were screaming at him to accept, so he could hide away from the world, just for a bit.

“Sure, whatever you say, Coach,” was Leo’s bláse answer, as he flipped a few final switches and turned on the Radar. “See ya,” and with that Leo was gone. He shuffled below deck. He passed Piper and Jason talking with hushed voices in the dining room/eating area room.

He passed his room without going in and continued on to the engine room. He never actually slept in there and mostly used it as storage for his other, side projects. He’d slept on the floor of Bunker Nine for most of the last couple of months and before that, it was either dorm-rooms or shared rooms or a floor and an old blanket, so his _own room_ was pretty weird. He preferred the engine room, with its constant humming and wheezing, like he could pretend it was another person keeping watch as he tried to sleep. But unlike people, he could actually trust his machines not to kill him as he slept. Well, _sometimes._

It was a tight fit, with the big fuck-off ivory statue in the middle of the room, but the mix of a strange magical and mechanical energy reminded him of the last days of the _Argo II_ building when he started to enlist Hecate kids to help with the magic portion of his Ship.

He rested his head against the crook of his arm, using it as a makeshift pillow as he looked at the Statue. Ivory and gold and strangely beautiful. Leo wondered if it could come to life and fight Gaia for them, at least then it might’ve been _worth it._

He fell asleep a few minutes after he settled on his bedroll, the gentle noise and roll of the ship rocking him to sleep, the image of the Athena Parthenos fistfighting Gaia firmly implanted in his mind.

It was weirdly comforting.

 

* * *

  
_They were screaming._

_She liked that._

_Each one of them, scrambling away from Her because they_ **_Feared_ ** _Her. They were powerless as She rained her vengeance upon them, as Her fury burned and rocked the very Earth they stood on. She would use it against them._

 _Their gods had all but ensured this. They deserved what She did to them. She watched as they burned, as they choked on their own air, as Her rivers swallowed them whole, as they scrambled towards the water. She heard their prayers, their screams for mercy. “Mercy!,” they screamed like that could sway Her, not after all they had done, this entire damned city of_ **_fools-_ **

 

_“Dores”_

 

_Her Father._

_He stood below Her, on the rim of Her mountain as She drifted above him. He looked….tired. Older, somehow._ _His dark eyes assessed Her grievously like She was a malfunctioning creation, something he was sad to see go._ _Her master had once called Her ‘useful scraps’._

_Perhaps he was right. But it didn’t matter, because he was gone now._

_“Lord Father” She rasped, Her voice unused to speaking to others. Her father reached up as if to pick Her from Her place in the sky but quickly wrenched his hand back to its place by his side. She knew She looked pathetic. Her tunic was ripped and torn and burnt and covered in soot like She had fought a mountain in the Coliseum. Her dark ringlets fell loosely around Her head, brushing against Her bare, outstretched arms._

_“Dores,” he repeated, his voice tinged with an emotion she couldn’t place. His eyes swirled with emotion and She wished She could scream because was this it?. Was this what it took for Her father to notice his own Daughter. She saw Her own reflection in his dark eyes, and She looked_ **_mad._ ** _Her skin was ashen and still covered in blood, and Her smile was vacant, but._

_Her eyes._

_Instead of a warm, heady brown. Instead of Her mother’s eyes, the eyes of a_ **_monster_ ** _stared back. They resembled a setting sun, orange, and gold, and red and blue._

 _She was beginning to suffocate, beginning to drown in his eyes._ _Her back arched like She was in pain, Her body writhing in the sky above Her mountain as even more smoke and fire belched out._

 

_The city screamed along in tandem with Her._

 

_“Dores,” he repeated and it was at that moment that Leo decided He had to kill him-_

 

_Wait, what?_

 

* * *

 

Leo woke with a start, his body jerking up from his bedroll in surprise and fear. His chest heaved as Leo gulped in air, his hand clenched in the material of his shirt, right over his heart, he could feel the pounding of his heart in his chest and his hands shook with light tremors, his eyes were wide as he stared into the middle-distance, his mind running at a hundred miles per hour.

Adrenaline shot through his body, leaving him paranoid. and anxious. for no reason. and leaving a cold sheen of sweat over his skin. For a few moments. All he could do was try. To breathe. His fist tightened in his shirt. Pressing down. Like he could stop his heart if he kept. Pushing. His breath whistled between teeth. Whoosh. Breathe.

Eventually, his chest expanded and his rib-cage opened itself up again, letting his heart beat slower and more evenly. His breath started coming a bit easier, full breaths instead of quick, short gulps. Finally, his body relaxed and he collapsed back onto his bedroll, closing his eyes against the quickly forming headache beneath the center of his forehead.

‘What the fuck was that’ surmised the part of his brain that usually kept him alive, and Leo had no choice but to agree. With himself. Where had _that_ come from?. He tried remembering if he had a nightmare or vision or _something._ Instead, he was met with a hazy fog of nothing. Nada. Nil. He could remember lying down but after that? Nothing. No dreams of any kind.

“Arghhhh” he grumbled, rubbing a hand across his face. He slipped his eyes open and winced when his blossoming headache poked a spear into his temples. He wanted nothing more than to crawl away, underneath some warm, dark surface and hide there forever.

But alas, Leo couldn’t do that because he had yet to fuck up Gaia and save Percy and Annabeth from Hell and rest assured, _he would_.

No point moping over his problems when they were in severe danger. He could tell everyone the truth about the Cookie once they were safe and then he could deal with the consequences of his actions.

So, with renewed vigor, he pushed himself up. For a split second, he thought his knees would give out as he started to stand, but he thankfully stayed upright. He stretched, cracked his back and resolved to drink some nectar to get rid of his headache. Apparently, the stuff was super-addictive if used for menial shit, but Leo couldn’t afford to work with something impairing his judgment.

And it wasn’t like Leo didn’t know how to handle himself around drugs. So, he’d be fine. Probably. Eh.

Like, two sips of Nectar and a disappeared headache later, Leo was at his console. Festus clicked him a report of the last 5 hours he’d been away. Nothing bigger than Coach or Jason could handle and no major repairs needed. Sexy.

Coach is gone, and Leo is alone.

It’s about then, as the Argo sails over some mountains, that the mountains start fucking _attacking them._ It’s a surreal moment as he watches them (them being the mountains) come alive, form rocky looking people. It _immediately_ sets off Leo’s innate ‘danger’ alarm.

He hits the alarm because no way is Leo dealing with this shit on his own. Coach, Hazel, Frank, and Nico are the first to come bounding up to the deck.

That’s when the first rock projectile hits his baby’s hull. The ship is rocked to the side with the force of the hit and Leo violently rattles his Wii remote as to correct the ship. ‘No. Damage.’ Festus clicks.

Thank _sweet baby Zeus._

“Ourae!” shouts Hazel’s Emo brother (Nico? right?) and Leo loads up his canons with a press of his A button. “Mountain Gods!,” he shouts in Leo’s ear, as the sky is filled with shots and exploding rock.

 

Gods Almighty, Leo wished he cared.

 

* * *

 

 

The bronze plating protects the Argo, but once nights starts to fall, Leo isn’t sure if she can keep it up much longer if he goes by Festus’ reports.

They fight in shifts, and Percy and Annabeth’s absence is palpable in the air. Coach almost calls out for them in battle sometimes, they all do. First, it's Jason and Frank, then its Piper and Nico and Hazel. Nico isn’t meant to be fighting, but his 2006 emo haircut seems to be too powerful for anyone to actually keep him below deck, so he fights with the people he’ll most likely listen to if he goes too far.  

Coach tries to tell Leo to ‘go get some rest’ once nightfall comes and Leo almost brains him with his Wii remote. So, Leo stays. Canons, ballistae, anything like projectile-weaponry are his best friends.

The second day of ‘The hills are alive with the sound of murderous rock gods’ is when they get a break. The break may have been in the form of a creepy witch goddess and her giving Hazel cool witchy powers and slightly-less cool warnings, but Leo isn’t one to be picky.

It's the night after Hazel’s rendezvous with Hecate that Leo doesn’t like.

He’s still at the helm, still too anxious after the hell his Argo has just been through to properly leave. So, it’s his….second? Third? All-nighter in a row. The night is warm, and there aren’t any attacks, mountain gods or anything else, so he’s mostly on auto-pilot. It’s nice. If he focuses completely on his task right now, his mind can’t wander to the elephant on the ship. His guilt.

Then, his hand's freeze, like someone just froze the very blood in his veins.

 

He was cold.

 

Somethingwascoming-

 

“Guilts a messy, messy thing, Leo-boyo. I’d be more careful with it” says the man sitting on the edge of his ship.

Leo is frozen. He can’t move, like a deer in headlights. His breathing is ragged and his eyes are blown wide but he _can’t move. Why can’t he move?!._

“Ah, I wouldn’t try to move much, Leonidas. It’s like those Chinese trap yokes you like so much. The more you move, the quicker you won’t _be able_ to move” says the stranger. The stranger is handsome, in a rugged, outlaw kind of way. He’s muscular, with pale skin and long honey-blond hair that's tied in a loose ponytail. His jaw is sharp and defined and covered in a light 5 o'clock shadow.

His eyes, however, make Leo want to run far, far, far away from this man. The pupil is a normal standard black, nothing too exciting there, but the Color. _The colors_. His eyes are the color of a bunsen burner.  Gold and red and white and blue and orange all dancing playfully in his eyes.

 

Leo wants to tear his own eyes out.

 

The man frowns. “You don’t really feel like that, do you, Leo?” his eyes shift to a soft gold now, like he’s been….. _muted,_ almost. “Do I disgust you that much?” he says, his accent playfully twisting his words. He’s British.

Leo pries open his mouth, to scream, to call for help to do _anything._ His body is shaking with the force of what feels like 500 pounds of weight pressing down all around him. The stranger rolls his eyes and grins at Leo like Leo is a particularly stupid puppy. “So stubborn, Leo, but we know that” and now the stranger's voice has multiplied. He’s talking with voices layered over voices.

 

Leo needs to run.

 

“For almost 16 years, you held back, Leonidas. Kept _us_ back” he laughs, laughs layered over laughs, and he moves from his spot on the side of the ship to standing directly in front of Leo, and his hand cups Leo’s cheek. “So much potential, yet you let yourself and others hold you back from your destiny. You are destined for so much more than this **_petty_ **prophecy” he (they?) spits. He’s stroking underneath Leo’s eye as he talks, almost absentmindedly. His thumb is so cold it burns.

He can’t move.

“Well, I can’t keep you long Leo, so I’ll leave you with this…” he trails off and his eyes shine a bright, propane blue. Then he flickers like a glitch in a game and his thumb almost crushes Leo’s eye socket as he presses **down** -

He looks the same, then Leo looks at the stranger's chest. Leo didn’t realize he was wearing what looked like a costume from those medieval fairs.

There was also about 4 arrows the size of Leo’s arms buried in his chest.

“We’ll be seeing you soon, Leo,” they say, their voices tearing through Leo’s brain mercilessly. Then, he flickers again and _disappears._

 

“-eo? Leo, can you hear me? Ar-Are you okay?” Frank is standing beside him, a large paw on his shoulder. Frank turns Leo towards him, steadying Leo with his grip. He inspects Leo, dark eyes sharp and worried.

Leo wants to make a quick witty comment about Frank _caring, awww._ But all of Leo’s strength is currently being used up so he doesn’t just collapse into a screaming mess-

_Dontthinkdontthinkaboutitdontthink_

“Oh, I’m fine”

 

He promptly falls unconscious into Franks' chest.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Frank does when Leo falls into him is stepping back. So Leo falls onto the floor, limp and hard. Leo collides with the deck with a solid ‘ _thunk’_ and, Sweet Vesta, Frank is a damn genius.

Frank scrambles to turn him on his back, harshly dropping to his knees. That’s when he notices it.

Leo’s breath is coming out in visible puffs as it does in winter and his skin is cold. Like, deathly cold. Which freaks Frank out even more than it normally would because Frank has known Leo for about a month and he has always been _obnoxiously warm._ There are deep, dark shadows underneath Leo’s eyes, like Leo’s half-shifted into a raccoon.

He needs to do _something._

“Frank?” calls Piper from behind him as she walks up to the deck and- _thankgodPiper._

“Piper!” he yells and Piper comes bounding towards him. He turns his body to watch her as she approaches. Her face is wild, and she collapses beside him, her hands fluttering over Leo’s body. “Oh, my gods” she chokes out, “What’s….what happened? Was it an attack? Why didn’t we hear anything-”

“I-I don’t know, but I do know he needs the med bay”

He crouches, demeanor determined, and he hooks one arm under Leo’s knees and another under his shoulders.

And he _lifts-_

And almost faceplants into the deck, because Leo doesn’t weigh anything. At all. Frank vastly overestimated how much strength he needed- sweet mother Juno he weighed less than some of the weapons Frank has held- and he doesn’t have time to think about that now. So, he hefts Leo into a bridal carry, with Piper watching anxiously along, her hands twitching at her side, her face troubled. Frank throws a quick glance at Leo’s face, which is half-hidden in Frank’s chest.

He looks….bad. Really bad. Delicate, almost.

Frank swiftly carries him down to the Med Bay. The loud din of his boots against the floor as he jogs to the med bay draws people out of rooms to investigate why Frank has suddenly decided to start moving in his elephant form. “Zhang, what in the sweet name of-” grumbles Coach as he steps out of his room to intercept Frank and Piper, but his voice falters when he sees Leo. His normally pretty grumpy face morphs into on of vague confusion, and Frank brushes past him as Piper starts hauling him along, determined to get them to the med bay. “Sorry, Coach!” Frank calls back as he's dragged along, but he hears the tell-tale _clop-clip_ of Coach jogging behind them.

“Here…” Piper says as Frank gingerly lays Leo down on one of the cots, her brows furrowed in confusion and just general distaste. She is also absentmindedly fingering her dagger, which has Frank wondering if he should step back before Piper gets _antsy._

“Cupcakes, if you wouldn’t mind telling me why the only person capable of running this ship is passed out in the Med Bay, that would be _great”_

Coach is suddenly right behind him, like, intensely close to Frank.

Frank will never say whether he did or did nor jump about a foot in the air when Coach growled.

“I- uh, I came up for my shift when I noticed Leo was just sort of staring into space so I asked him if he was okay and then he said that he was fine but then he passed out so I guess he was lying-”

“Breathe, Zhang” Coach urges, looking up at Frank. Frank sometimes can’t believe how small Coach Hedge is, he thinks as he composes himself.

The Faun- _Saytr,_ brushes past him to Leo, who is prone on the bed. Piper is sitting on the edge of the bed, her face covered by her curtain of hair and her hand is lying carefully on Leo’s forehead. Hedge leans over Leo, examining him from head to toe.  

For a few moments, the room is almost silent. Leo’s breathing, which is quick and shallow, is the only noise. Piper keeps her hand on his forehead, brushing her thumb over his brow.

“What in the sweet name of Pan is this…..” Coach mumbles as he straightens up, his face even more confused than when he came in.

Then Frank hears the floorboards creak at the entrance and he turns to see Jason, who’s face has suddenly gone deathly pale. “Leo?” he questions like he's confused about what’s happening. Which would mean that no one knows what's happening?. This is giving Frank a worse headache than his Father’s voices ever could. Speaking of, he’s thankful but wary that they’re so silent.

Coach stands back, places his hand on his hips and everyone looks at him hopefully, like he’ll just rub some weird herbs on Leo and he’ll wake up.

“He has Hypothermia”

 

He has what.

 

 


	2. we all have questions about leo valdez

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> this is valgrace now. it won't be super relevant in the beginning but it will get more focused as this story progresses and since tfiohawwnbtsa (my other story) is gen i thought I'd try out something new. 
> 
> so yeah, chapter 2

 

 

“Hypothermia? Seriously?” Piper says, her voice high with surprise. Jason sags against the doorway, leaning against the wood like a puppet who had it's strings suddenly cut, for lack of a better metaphor.

Frank has to bodily fight with himself to keep his jaw from falling open like an idiot. “Is that- Is that even possible? With Leo’s powers and all” Frank questions, his eyes stuck on Leo. He _does_ look cold. Too cold. His lips still have a slight tint of blue on them and his skin is pale, highlighting the bags under Leo’s eyes.

“It shouldn’t be. Leo’s powers operate in such a way that it’s impossible for him to ever actually be cold. His average temp is actually something like 104, but right now he’s more like a 94”

Hedge frowns the whole way through his speech and Piper starts running her fingers through Leo’s hair with fervent desperation, tugging through his curls like a worried mother. “He should be dead. Or at least dying, but he’s not in any kind of danger zone _physically_. It’s just like Leo’s body….stopped working, for a few seconds at least”

He abruptly turns to Frank and Jason, pointing at them and using the voice Hedge _thinks_ sounds cool. “Blankets, some warm clothes, some hot water, and a rag. ASAP” he commands and Frank is dragging Jason out by his wrist because Jason looks about as awake as Leo. Jason can’t stop looking at Leo’s prone body and Frank has to put himself in Jason’s shoes. If his best-friend was put in a mysterious coma days after your leaders fell into Tartarus, making you the de facto leader, he’d probably look a bit out of it too.

They get the rag and a basin of hot water easily enough, which they immediately give to Hedge and Piper. The clothes and blankets are a bit harder. They go into Leo’s room, expecting the average mess of a half-human teenaged engineer.

They come out with _much_ more questions than they had going in.

“Where does he _sleep”_ Jason mumbles, half-shocked and half-resigned.

“It’s _Leo,_ ” is Frank’s deadpan answer.

In the end, they just steal some blankets from both Frank and Jason’s room. For the clothes, they use Leo’s actual clothes, which are in his room like a normal half-human being but are hidden under his blueprints and strange pieces of metal.

There are grey sweatpants, which are covered with suspicious, dark stains that Frank is much too tired to give a schist about and a large sweatshirt that looks about as old as Frank. It was red, with tired, yellow lettering proclaiming “Austin High School”.

 

It looked loved.

 

Jason handed the clothes to Hedge, who immediately shooed them back out when they tried to step inside. “There’s nothing you can do to help right now except being something I don’t have to worry about, Cupcakes” Coach grumbled “Go, sleep. Rest. Go frolic in la-la-land”

Jason started to protest but was immediately stopped by Coach pointing his bat at Jason, threatening him with extensive bodily harm if he didn’t rest. Frank was in his room before Coach had even finished with Jason, afraid for himself if Hedge decided to turn on Frank.

Frank fell into bed, still fully clothed, just happy to not have his schizophrenic Father screaming in his head for once. He, weirdly enough, however, couldn’t get the Dwarf’s Song from Snow White from out of his head all night.

He shifted into his bulldog form and let the misty fog of sleep fall over him.

  


* * *

 

 

 

_The camp was burning._

_It was dead and gone, and they burned as the Romans and Monsters set upon them. Then, the Romans went up in flames too, their shiny golden armor melting off their bones. They might've had different weapons and different cultures but they still bled the same as greeks, the same gold-red mixture that they all had._

_And Leo was running away._

_Unsurprisingly._

_He was running through the Camp, dodging bodies and monsters, his feet pounding against the earth. His gaze was centered on the crest of the hill, where that tall Pine tree was rooted. His breath was punched out of his lungs every time he took a step forward._

_He didn’t know why he was running._

_The black sky above him crackled with lightning, and wind ripped around him as he ran, tugging on his army jacket and his hair._

_He launched himself at the tree, digging his fingers into the rough bark of the Pine._ _After the tree there was nothing. After the tree, the hill ended abruptly in a cliff that led into a foggy emptiness, like Leo had reached the edge of reality._

_“There you are, Firebearer,” says a voice behind him and he whips around, pressing his back to the tree._ T _he woman standing behind him was beautiful. She was regal, with unblemished, perfect skin that beautifully contrasted with her dark hair, which was piled high on her head. She was like a statue come to life, with how perfect she looked. It unnerved Leo to no end._

_“My_ **_name_ ** _is Leo, Lady,” he spits, wary of the woman cornering him on a cliff._

_She laughs like his anger is cute, and replies in the same sickly-sweet tone “And I care little for_ **_your_ ** _‘actual’ name, tinkerer. You are a pawn at best and a pest at worst. A roach, if you will”._ _He dug his fingers even further into the bark, physically restraining himself._

_Creepy Statue Woman somehow sensed his anger and laughed daintily at him, and her cold eyes sparked with…..something._ _“I’ve had enough games now, Firebearer. Come now, and let us speak reasonably. I will only offer this once. The Earth Mother has invited you to join her, where you can finally be free from your shackles”_

_What the fuck was this Lady on about?_

_“Uh, yeah no thanks. As….tempting, as all that sounds, I’m going to have to decline Dirt Faces offer. Like the last seven times, she’s asked me. It’s starting to get pretty desperate, actually” he joked, trying for a smile despite the fact he was terrified._

_This was not Leo’s brightest moment._

_“_ ** _I am not speaking to you, tinkerer”_ ** _she boomed, shaking the entire earth. Leo drew back into the tree, half-hiding behind it for shelter. Her eyes now only held pure hatred that made her eyes glow bright white, making Leo’s skin tingle. Then, for a few seconds, nothing. No sound. No wind or thunder or anything._

_Pure._

_Silence._

_Then, the lady’s eyes went back to their original state, and a soft, regal smile was fixed on her face and the chaos continues around them. “Well, then, nothing?” she sighed and waved her hand. Leo jumped about a foot in the air as she replaced the burning camp with a clearing._ _The only things in this new clearing were the same reality-ending cliff, the tree (which Leo was still hugging) and a cave. A small, dark, creepy cave that leads straight into the earth, that stank of death. “My name is Pasiphae, urchin, and I am offering you a choice” she drawled like Leo was the most boring thing she’d ever set her eyes upon._

_“A choice? What kind of choice, lady?” he asked warily, watching her every move._

_Pasiphae rolled her eyes and waved her hands from the tree to the cave “You, little hero, have a choice on which way you die. Rest assured, you will most definitely die in this quest since_ **_you_ ** _have been much less than we were hoping for, but The Earth Mother is kind enough to offer you a choice”_

_“And what if I just….don't choose?”_

_Pasiphae looked cooly at him and clicked her fingers, and a 20-foot dark shadow appeared behind her. “Then he will kill you, right here in this dream”._

_The shadow had dark, ashen dragon legs that peaked from below the cloak that totally covered him, so the only thing that was visible was two bright spots in its head, that Leo supposed could be its eyes._

_“Choose now, godling. Before Clytius chooses for you”_

_Looking at Clytius, Leo had never felt hatred like this before. Even looking at it made Leo want to tear it’s throat out with his teeth. Which, weird. But just looking at it made him want to scream and burn things. It was a primal instinct to hate this thing and Leo had no idea why._

 

_“No”_

 

_Pasiphae’s eyes widened marginally in shock. “What did you just say to me, godling?”_

 

_“I said,_ **_No”_ **

 

_Leo couldn’t stop himself from speaking, it was like his voice was working of its own accord, forcing the words out of his mouth._ _Next, his body stepped forward._ _His face was lax, betraying no emotion, but inside was a tempest. He wanted to stop, to turn and make a break for that cliff, but instead, his body made slow progress towards the shadow giant and Pasiphae._

_“What do you think you are doing, you little gutter-rat” she hissed._

_And like a shitty action movie, Leo, somehow, for no discernible reason, made a sprint towards the shadow. Pasiphae screeched, and started chanting something, but not before Leo leaped at the shadow and threw a goddamn fire-ball at the thing-_

His eyes shot open.

His breath was coming in quick, hot panting breaths, and his body felt weirdly warm. There was also this strangely heavy weight on his chest. Leo could tell he was swaddled in, like, seven blankets and his favorite sweatshirt.

He shifted on the bed and was weirded out when the heaviness followed him. So he looked at his chest.

And was met with the top of Piper’s head staring back at him- wait, why was he in a bed? Why was piper sleeping on top of him? Where was he?

“What the _hell”_ he mumbled as he tried to think back, but when he tried to think back, all he could remember was….falling into Frank? Did he _faint? On top of_ **_Frank_ **of all people.

Gods, he was warm.

This….. also wasn't his room. It was the Med Bay.

Had Leo been heroically hurt trying to save someone? He hoped so. Of course, the likely cause was that Leo had hit his head off something and had to be carried to the med bay by Frank like some fainting damsel.

Uck.

He blinked up at the slightly rocking ceiling. He watched the lamps as they rocked with the rock of the ship, entrancing Leo. His eyes slipped half-closed and his breathing evened out. The fire left a kind of…..imprint, as it swayed from side to side like the flames weren’t too happy being dragged from side to side, from place to place.

_What happened?_

Swish. Swish.

_Why…_

Swish, Swish, Swish-

  


_G̈̽͞͞ư͌̾͗͡ï̎ͭ̾̒͗̉͋lͥ̃t̴̸ͮ̄ͨͧͦ̅’̶ͯ̿́̈́̓ͦ͂̎̇͠s̸̑̈̆͛ͦͭ̀͑͘ ̋ͤ̏͌ͯ̿̒͟ą̵̃̑ͯ̾́̈́̽̑͜ ̛ͧ͒̒ͨ̃͛̌̚͝d̨ͦȧ̛̑ͯͩ͋ͬ̿n̊̈́̑̐̌ͣ̔̐̒g̐͑̆̊ͨ̎͜͝e̋̓̉͊̊͒ͤ̍͟͞r̵̅̈́̌͞͠o͋̑̃ͧ͌u̅ͬ͗s̉̀̽̔̈҉͟ ̢̋̿͛́͐̾̉t̛͛͆̀̽ͯ͢͡hͬͫͤͫ̈̈̎ͧ̚̕ī̢̋̒ͨ̂ǹ̷̑̈ͫg̵̸̢͗̋̋̐́̓,̋̈́̊ͤͣ͟ ̈́͌̃̂͞͠Lͭ͂̈̅̽̄ȩ̷̃ͨͨo̵̾̾̀̌̅ͭ-̶ͥ͛̐͊ͦ́̄”͂̔̌̔͂̾ͫ̊͠_

 

He.

  


Could.

  


See.

  


**Him?**

  
  


“ _Sweet-_ fuck!”

 

Piper was abruptly awoken as she was pushed upright when Leo jerked up in the bed, his eyes wide and so very very far away. She was talking to him, but it was like she was talking through layers of cotton wool. Her mouth moved and her eyes furrowed in concern, but Leo couldn't see that.

That's when his heart started to _burn._ It was like someone was twisting a dagger into his diaphragm.

He bent in half at the waist, his hands clenching in the fabric over his heart like he could pull the pain in his chest out with his bare hands. ‘ _Make it stop’_ was what he wanted to scream, anything to make this horrible pain in his chest go away, but he had barely enough coherency to breath, never mind talk. It was like his chest was filled with broken glass and his lungs had gasoline in them, suffocating him and burning him.

He wasn’t really aware of his breathing. He wasn’t even entirely sure _he was._ Was he just dead?

His eyes blurred with tears and his skin buzzed with exploding nerves like his bones were pushing in Leo’s organs and his brain was pushing against his head and soon he’ll just burst into chunks, as his bones contract and his brain enlarges under his skull. His legs kick out, his feet catching on the sheets and trapping him.

He falls back onto the cot, his back arching with pain. He’s trapped in his cot, in his own head, in his own body, it hurts too much, too much oh gods anyone please _make it stop-_

_“_ Ma-Make i-i-it st-ah!-stop!”

He was pleading with anyone, please. To take this away from him, to kill him, to set him free from this pain, to make it **stop-**

Then, something cool slips down his throat, settling itself in his chest warmly. Something that tastes like his abuelo’s _Tascalate_ and those specific Keystone beers that Piper stole for them back in Wilderness.

His awareness comes back slowly.

There is a line of heat behind him, supporting him as he sits upright. He blinks a few times as the world comes back into focus, his eyesight hazy and tilted. He starts hearing a few snippets of words, but they don’t really make sense. Just babble, to his ears.

He gains a vague awareness of his breathing, of the expansion of his chest and the feeling of his breath as it rattles out of his lungs and over his chapped lips.

“Hey, Leo, you with us?”

He should probably answer that.

He swings his head around to where the voice came from, his vision swimming like those shitty watercolor paintings people always jizz out over. It’s a painting from a dead guy or some rich artsy french dude. Get over yourself.

The colorful blob that spoke wasn’t easy to figure out, so Leo squinted his eyes until his vision fixed itself. “Hey, Ca-och” he slurred, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

Coach Hedge seemed less than impressed with that.

His wrinkled brow furrowed as he stared intensely at Leo, his mouth downturned at the edges.  They held eye contact for a few seconds before Leo blinked quickly, his eyes pained.

“He’s still shivering, Hedge”

That voice, he couldn’t see, but he could feel it. The voice reverberated from his back through to his chest. The warm thing behind him was actually a person. Leo was currently being completely supported by this person. His head was leaning against the person’s shoulder and he was pressed back-to-chest to the voice.

“Heeeey, Jason…..” he mumbled, digging further into Jason’s warmth. Huh. He was cold.

Jason smelt nice. Like that earthy smell the air got before a big rainfall. _Petrichor._

“Why…. am I cold?”

Hedge blew out a heavy breath and Jason drew him into a hug. Warm. So _Warm._

“Valdez, I’m going to need you to rest for a bit longer. Just until we hit port, then we can see what I can do,” Coach says gently and Leo is much too tired to be weirded out by this, but-

“The Argo,” he croaks, attempting to push himself up out of Jason’s grip.

“We can handle the Argo until you get better". That’s Piper. His Piper.

 “‘m c’ld” he whispers like it’s a secret that must never be told. Leo remembers the last time he was this cold. It was 2, maybe 3 years ago, when he was 13. 2016. He was in Maryland after running from a group home in Jersey when the Snowstorm hit.

‘Historical’ they called it. It broke records for how much snow fell. And homeless, 13-year-old Leonidas Valdez was in the worst of it.  

He hid in a rundown, boarded-up house for the majority of it with little food or water, too afraid to venture outside. He had seen dead bodies during winter on the streets, their bodies stiff with the cold and their skin blue, still huddled in their jackets and blankets.

Leo didn’t want to die like that. But he didn’t trust shelters. Not at all. Never.

So he waited. For two day straight in that house. He had a cold when he left Jersey and after the Snowstorm really started he had a full-blown fever. He has foggy memories of the room he had stayed in, the cracked ceiling and the cobweb-covered walls and the creaky wood. But the passage of time had lost all meaning. He had covered himself in jackets and sleeping bags and blankets and stayed like that. Fever dream after fever dream, slowly dying of dehydration and the cold and his stupid fever.

He would’ve died in that house if not for three 17-year-olds who were looking for a safe place to hide out after they got trapped in the tail end of the storm. They had broken into the house after their car had broken down in the blizzard, desperate for shelter.

That's when they found Leo. Skinny, small, defenseless, Leo, who was covered in sweat and jackets and delirious out of his goddamn mind. They had proceeded to break into a neighboring house a five-minute walk away, begging for help.

 

Leo did not die.

 

He had never gotten their names, though.

Huh, he was falling asleep. Weird. “Sleep, Leo…,” Piper whispered, her charmspeak gently coaxing him under. His eyes fluttered, the dark brown of his eyes growing hazy. Her eyes were pretty. She was so close that Leo could smell that weird fruity shampoo she liked to use.

He was back on the bed.

Her hand was on his forehead, the warmth from her hand sending warm pulses directly to his brain.

“R’go...m’rgo”

 

“ _Sleep”_

  


* * *

 

 

Coach gently shut the door to the Med Bay, the door shutting with a soft ‘ _click’._ “I have no idea what’s wrong with him” he confessed, looking up at all of them. The coach was taking Leo’s illness the worst out of all of them. Not only was Leo falling sick only three or so days after Percy and Annabeth fell, but Coach was Leo’s _protector_. That held weight among Satyrs, and it was considered a great shame if your protectees died while under your watch.

Jason wanted to say he felt like Piper, who held such strong faith in Leo that she was sure that he’d wake up. To Piper, Leo was infallible because Piper needed Leo to be. Leo was Piper’s constant. Her best friend, and so, she had _faith_ in Leo.

Jason wished he was that sure of things. Jason was barely sure who he was, who he belonged to.

_What_ he was.

But Jason didn't exactly have time to have an identity crisis right now. He could figure out who he was once they stopped Gaia.

Hedge blew out a breath, his years showing on his face. Hedge had been acting weird even before Rome and Leo falling sick. “Nectar and Ambrosia only work on the side-effects, but there is something behind all of this. And the worst thing is, I can't beat Valdez up again until he works properly”

Wait- _Again?._ Jason sincerely hopes Coach is joking about beating up their sick, and the only engineer in hopes he'd just fix himself if he got damaged enough. Like hitting the on/off button on those computer-do-hickeys that mortals use.

Piper, who is currently standing beside him, looks trapped between righteous anger and _intense_ confusion. Then, Hedge just…. clip-clops away, stretching his arms and looking like Atlas.

“I'm on watch,” Piper says, half to herself as they stare at the Med Bay door. “I'll… see you soon I guess” Jason nods, feeling like the world's most disappointing friend and boyfriend. He's lost, he's confused, he's lonely and he doesn't know who he is, _really._

When Jason was a kid in the Legion, he'd always be envious of the children who had normal childhoods and normal teenage experiences. Now, Jason would give his spine to someone if they told him he could go back to that. The rigid rules and the order and the uniformity.

Then he thinks about CHB and their wild nature and free-thinking and _laughter_ , and he thinks it might be worth it if he could have _that_ after all of this.

Jason, weirdly enough, wants to cry.

Huh

Jason walks back into the med bay, pulls a chair up by Leo's cot and watches. Watches the slow rise and fall of Leo's chest, hand covering his mouth. Leo’s face betrays nothing, the delicate planes of his face slack and emotionless.

‘ _Leo has a weird face’,_  Jason’s wandering mind supplies as he watches Leo. He’s objectively not the most handsome person on the Ship. Jason associates handsome with the rugged jawlines and bulging muscles most of the Legion’s masculine fighters had. That is handsome. Diamond-cut jawlines and dark eyes and thick shoulders and large, meaty hands.

Leo does not have these.

Leo has soft skin with a dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks. He has high cheekbones and a delicate frame that makes Leo look like he’s been constructed out of bird-bones. His mouth is too wide and too _weird._ Jason knows what Leo’s eyes look like, even though they’re hidden beneath Leo’s eyelids right now. Leo’s eyes are brown and mischievous like he’s planning a new prank every second that he’s alive. Not the hypnotic, beautiful heterochromatic brown/green that Piper has. Brown. But. Jason sometimes can’t help but think-

Jason supposes Leo is pretty. But can you say that about men? Jason doesn’t know.

Right now, Leo’s skin is pale but not as pale as it was during his fit. There are bags under his eyes, but Jason guiltily can’t remember when there wasn’t. Leo is eternally tired but has an endless supply of energy. The son of the thunder god can’t help but be a bit envious.

But, right now, Leo is sick and Hedge is acting shifty and Piper doesn't talk to him anymore and Nico is downright suicidal most of the time, which stresses Hazel out which makes Frank worried and Percy is with Annabeth, possibly dead in Tartarus and- and-

Jason is so _tired._

  


* * *

  


Pasiphae is no fool.

She knows Hecate and her apprentice, Pluto's bitch of a daughter are working together. Mist-manipulation is tricky, dangerous work. Weaving together the very foundation of their world to make something a reality requires power, and which better to choose than the girl who not even death could stop? The girl who stopped Gaia by 70 years?. She would have to be a fool to not recognize that Pluto's godling was perfectly suited to The Arts. Child of Death and Riches, Legacy of Magic.

Marie Levesque wasn't just some common mortal whore. She had magic in her blood. Not Roman or Greek. Something much older. And much more interesting.

She walks the cold cobbles of The House, carefully watching Clytius as he stands silently in his little corner, watching the beasts crawl from The Doors. ‘ _Pathetic Creatures’_ Pasiphae can't help but think. Forced to live an endless life of punishment, killed over and over by the godlings. Forced into living in The Pit.

Perseus and Athena's pride mutt are destined to die in The Pit. So no point in worrying about corpses. Jupiter's child and Perciclemysus legacy are uninteresting. Grace is fractured and the legacy is unimportant. Boys with fancy powers and no idea how to use them. The McLean girl could be interesting. Only if to use her against the others. Pasiphae wonders if her screams are as pretty as she is. At any rate, sweet talk isn't a weapon against The First Mother. She is unmovable as, well, _the Earth._

Leonidas. _Son of the Lion._ A powerful name indeed. He should've been nothing more than a tinker, a pathetic madman with blueprints, in a similar vein to that Daedalus.

But.

She can sense it. She heard the story, about Vulcan and Hecate. Their _experiment._  That boy. The punishment. She knows what it means.

The boy is far from a normal godling. The ghosts in his head make Pasiphae…not nervous per se, but certainly apprehensive about him. She had originally believed that the Earth Mothers beliefs were exaggerated. Then she confronted him.

His mind was strange. Easy to enter, like it was common of him to have guests of her nature. At first, he was the average pitiful godling. Terrified but too proud or too stupid to show it. Then she made him choose. The cliff or the cave. Quite simple. Or Clytius. But no one ever chose the Giant. Pity.

It was like when she threatened him, his defensive systems took over. His mind had seen its intruder and implemented its extermination process. Her projected-self had been boiled alive by an unseen force.

It had expelled her from his mind.

_Her_.

The Immortal Sorceress. He had too attacked The Giant, but she was too occupied with her own intense torture to be bothered by what it did to him.

The most unpleasant thing about their little _tête-à-tête_ was the Earth Mothers reaction. Pasiphae had been sent to kill him, as he was apparently not what she had been expecting, useless and a waste of her valuable time. Instead, Pasiphae reported back that she had been wrong. That he truly was what they hoped he was not.

And The Mother _laughed._ A brain shattering laugh that shook the foundations of The House.

“ _Ahhh”_ she had whispered, a serene smile on her beautiful earthen face “ _so he's finally decided to show his face, hmmm?. Well, let him. I do not fear the wrath of a half-mad Bastard, nor do I fear his mad War Dogs. Even if he lets him live, there are no guarantees they will be on the side of my Grandchildren. All these years, living like that does not endear one to the mighty Olympians”_

She had swayed slightly like she was caught in an invisible breeze, her small smile making her look _happy_.

Pasiphae didn't understand it, even hours later.

 

“ _Let him come. I shall revel in the destruction they bring, whether it be on us, the gods or just the world itself"._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments about just anything are appreciated. My Tumblr is ding-dong-the-witch-is-gay come over and talk to me! seriously! id love to talk to y'all!


	3. the missing 8th and 9th dwarves, homoerotic subtext and mystery~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank y'all for all of the kudos and absolutely lovely comments!
> 
> uhhh gore warning (body gore about burnt bodies) after the line;  
> She appeared out of the wall, her form chopping in and out, like reality could barely contain her
> 
> so if y'all are uncomfortable with that, just skip to the end and i'll explain what you missed!
> 
>  
> 
> Comments and kudos warm my tiny ginger heart! Please leave some! :)

 

Jason Grace was beginning to feel like Tyche had cursed them with eternal bad luck. After all, kleptomaniac _dwarves_ seemed a bit excessive on top of everything else. They had a total rest period of about 3 hours. Leo had his fit around 10 in the morning, and the dwarves appeared when the sun was hot in the Italian sky.

There is chaos as the creatures raid the ship, stealing anything with a shine and messing up the dining room’s projected screens. Jason will forever be haunted by the up-close sight of one of the Kerkopes’ gnarly teeth and red nose and blood-shot eyes. It, of course, interrupted a conversation about a dream Piper had. Something about a cliff and a cave and Octavian marching on Camp.  _And Reyna?._

Piper was in the middle of explaining how she attacked the Sorceress instead of choosing, forcing her out of her mind with Charmspeak when the ship _rocked,_ throwing them all across the room.

It also knocked Frank unconscious.  

They end up stealing Piper’s _Kraptois,_ a sphere Leo is weirdly attached to and Leo’s tool-belt, which was thrown over the Control Console for safe-keeping. Jason is, of course, hit on the head by the dwarves because the gods seem Hades-bent on him getting post-concussion syndrome. Nothing quite like a brain-damaged hero with the powers of an electric pigeon to really turn the tides of the War.

The worst part, is, of course, the fact that the Kerkopes had searched every room.

Including the Med Bay.

Jason can’t imagine the absolute confusion that Leo must’ve felt when he woke up. Sick and tired and being confronted by _those_ things. Judging by Leo’s high-pitched shriek, he wasn’t exactly pleased.

The Kerkopes had jumped off the ship, treasures in hand as they bounded down the pier of Bologna. Jason was too concussed and confused to go after them. Nico was currently keeled over on the deck while his sister gently patted his head as he hurled over the side of the Argo. A tiny Kerkope directly to the midriff was painful, apparently. Piper was the most lucid, screaming after them but still on deck. Frank was passed out down below deck.

That’s when Leo came bounding up the deck, sweats rolled up at the ankles and his overly-large sweatshirt showing off a sliver of his left collar bone. He looked completely wild. As if he’d come crawling through shrubbery and dirt to get to the deck. His hair was greasy and pressed to one side, giving him an overall look of a particularly chic hobo.

"Piper! What the fuck is happening?” was Leo’s screech of indignance. She stopped dead in her tracks, mouth still open to yell at the Kerkopes and eyes wide.

Everyone on the ship whipped around to look at Leo, varying degrees of surprise and shock showing on their faces. Even Nico gave pause in his upheaving to give a quick once-over, dark eyes sharp and intense. From Jason’s spot on the floor, he could clearly see the fact that Nico was seeing _something._ Something they couldn't see.

“Leo!”

Piper exclaimed, throwing herself at Leo, wrapping herself around him like he was a nice-looking tree and she was a particularly adventurous sloth. Hedge made to go to Leo too, but stopped before he even made his first step. Jason could feel his instincts scream at him that there was something seriously wrong with Coach. Hazel beamed at Leo, still comforting her sick brother. He had been punched in the midriff and had used his powers while his body was still extremely weak.

Jason was happy. Or was he? Jason knew he was happy to see Leo awake, but something was different. Like his feeling about everyone had been put in a blender at set to high.

Leo caught Jason’s eye from over Piper’s shoulder where she had him buried. Jason stood high now, only a small trickle of blood coming from his hairline to even suggest that he had been knocked out in battle by two dwarves.

Leo’s eyes were still just plain brown, but warmer than Jason’s memories could ever remember. Memories never did people justice.

“Hey, Leo”

He smiled over her shoulder at Jason. Jason smiled back, a half-grin, but it was something.

“Pipes, I know I’m just _irresistible,_ but this fine piece of ass needs to _breathe”_

Piper regrettably de-tangled herself from Leo, who took a large, dramatic gulping breath after he got free, prompting Piper to punch his shoulder. Which, in turn, pulled a high-pitched yelp from Leo, who’s face wrinkled and mouth turned downwards.

“I wake from my unending, possibly deadly sickness and this is how you react? I hope you never have to nurse me back to health, McLean. I think I'd prefer Coach and his ‘ _herbal remedies’”_

Piper rolled her eyes in frustration and began mumbling in French while Coach nodded at Leo, apparently happy that Leo would choose him over Piper. “You should know, cupcake, my herbal remedies kept the MLB running back in the 70’s-”

Hazel coughed as Hedge prepared to go into _extensive_ detail about his short stint with the MLB back in the ’70s. “As much as we’d appreciate your stories, Coach, we have injured to attended to and dwarves to track down,” she said, ever the diplomat. Jason nodded in agreement “We need to hunt them down soon”

Leo frowned at Hazel and Jason’s little chat, a bushy eyebrow raised in question “Hey, yeah, what did they steal? Like on a scale of one to five, how valuable are they because this is a quest to stop the _end_ of the _world_. I’m not losing my head to the missing 8th and 9th dwarves, klepto and butt-ugly, because you want your hairbrush back, Grace”

Nico fixed his dark eyes on Leo from his cozy spot on the floor and spoke, dryly and scathingly “Just Piper’s dagger and your belt. And your golden sphere. So, yeah, nothing important”.

Jason could practically _see_ Leo’s hackles rising. Leo took a step closer to Nico, the bare feet padding gently on the deck, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth set in a thin harsh line as he opened his mouth to start another argument with Nico.

But Jason was not having any more of _that_ here.

He placed a large hand on Leo’s chest, a warning for Leo to not go any further. Leo looked up at Jason in shock, like he’d forgotten Jason was there. He blinked dumbly up at him, his brown eyes wide and innocent like he was saying ‘ _oh, no need to do that! I’d never fight Nico even though I was prepared to just 5 seconds ago!’ _

“Leo, go back below deck, Piper, you’re with me. I’ll review the city from-”

“You can suck Ares’ balls if you think I’m not going with you. That’s my stuff they stole! That ‘golden sphere’ is an original Archimedes Sphere! Do you know how important that is?” Leo interrupted, his arms waving wildly as he spoke.

“So,” Nico rasped “It’s important now, is it?. Quick to change your tune there, Valdez”

“Oh, shut the fuck up. At least I don't look like 2006 scene kid!”.

“Leo!” Piper chastised, pinching the skin of Leo’s wrist. Jason couldn’t help roll his eyes as he felt a headache furling beneath the bridge of his nose. Nico stared down Leo, his brow furrowed in anger, his gaunt cheeks tinged green.

Jason wished he knew what a ‘scene kid’ was so he could at least understand Leo’s bizarre insults. “Well, Jason, just let me put on some shoes and possibly pants and we can go and re-steal our stuff from a duo of magical midgets in Baloney”.

Jason wishes Leo had an off-button sometimes. Just. _sometimes_

 

* * *

 

Leo gets his way. Which is a nice change of pace, like the luck goddess is finally going ‘ _hey, this kid deserves his magical gold football back’_ which Leo is totally on board for. He's even wearing proper pants. Jeans, with enough holes in them to wander from the ‘distressed’ section to the ‘thrift’ section pretty quickly. Leo isn't entirely sure why they're like this, but, alas, Leo does not care. He's still wearing The Sweatshirt, which is _still_ laughably large on him.

Piper had offered to go with them like originally planned, but since both Nico and Frank aren't exactly fully conscious or lucid, Jason asks her to stay behind and defend the ship with Hedge. She stays. Leo feels guilty.

So it's a _merry_ band of Leo, Jason, and the-witch-in-training Hazel Levesque.

Leo is just happy to be moving again.

The past- what? A week? 4 days maybe? since Rome has been a blur of monsters and destruction and Leo hallucinating a British kid and freaking out for like a day straight, apparently.

They wander into Baloney-town (or is it bolognese?) and split up. Jason and Leo separated from Hazel after she claimed she needed to search Bolognese Town on her own. Which was probably something to do with the witchy-thing she had going lately.

Leo is admiring the balls of a Poseidon statue in a fountain when he sees the little fuckers again. Well, it's more like he's trying to open up the obvious secret lair in the thing while Jason stands there and looks pretty. One minute, he's bewildered by the ancient naked statue of one of his friend's _dad,_ which was pulling him into a weird existential crisis and the next, boom, _dwarves._

“Look-Look brother! I _told_ you they’d follow us-and look, it's the son of Jupiter like black-bottom!” screeched one of the dwarves from their place on top of the statue.

Leo didn't really have time to get a good look at the monsters while they were accosting him in his cot like the creeps they were, but now, they were mostly still on their perch. One of them had red fur, while the other had brown. They were also wearing clothes not even a blind dude with a frontal lobotomy could pull together. Suspenders and neon pants and green bowler hats.

“Monkey dwarves…” Jason said softly like he couldn't really believe that what he was seeing was what he was _actually_ seeing.

“Monkey dwarves”

Ahhh, Leo. Ever the conversationalist. Red Monkey screamed- or laughed as he did a little jolly dance on top of the statue.“I am Passalos!” one of them laughed, climbing all over buck-naked Poseidon.

“And I, Akmon!”

To say the least, Leo was a little on edge. It didn't help that Leo was _angry._ He didn't really know why, but he wanted the burn the little bastards to the ground. “Is this…..your secret lair, huh? Where you keep all of the stuff you steal, you kleptos!". Leo spread his fingers across the statue, feeling the mechanics turn underneath his palms. They responded to him, whirling and heating up.

“Oh! A secret lair! I want a secret lair, brother!” said brown monkey, jumping up on down on Poseidon's shoulder.

Jason frowned as he circled the statue in the fountain, his sword drawn.“If it isn't a lair, what is it?”

“Ah! The Son of Jupiter asks a question! As wise as Black Bottom, no? Well, pity, we want to keep our shineys”

Leo felt the mechanics heat up and spark beneath his fingers and _oh shit-_

Leo threw himself backward out of the fountain as the statue exploded outwards, wrapping Jason in golden ropes.

“ _Jesus H Christ!”_ Leo screeched, and the dwarves let out a raucous chorus of laughter, their rotten gnarled teeth shining in the Italian sun as they bolted away, whooping and laughing as they jumped from building to building.

“Leo, chase them!”

“But-”

“Go, I'm fine! Don't lose them!”

Leo reluctantly left Jason hanging as he bolted after the Kerkopes, his body falling into a natural rhythm of running. Leo couldn’t fight with a sword like Annabeth or Percy or Jason. He couldn't talk his enemies down like Piper. He couldn’t overpower them like Frank and he _most definitely_ could not fight like Hazel.

But Leo knew running. He knew how to escape down back-alleys and through buildings. How to scale a wall and how to jump from roof to roof, feet always finding thresholds.  

Leo ran after the kerkopes, following the trail of destruction and loose screws that fell from his belt.

It was easy.

Way too easy.

Eventually, he watched the magical kleptomaniacs disappear into a tower, their raucous laughter ceasing. The windows were barred, but small enough that a kerkope could _definitely_ squeeze through.

_‘Little Bastards’_ was Leo’s first coherent thought of the day, and probably the last.

 

* * *

 

One homemade flash-bang later, Leo was standing victoriously over _the magical midget twins._

Which sounded like a really bad porno, but, eh. Leo could work on their nickname after they were dead.

It was about then that Jason Grace flew in, lightning and wind ripping around him, making him look like a bastard child of Thor and Captain America. Captain Thor? Thor Rodgers? Steve Odinson?-

“You wasted an entrance, my dude”

Jason blinked quickly at the scene laid out before him. Leo standing mightily victorious over a pair of hogtied wonder-demons.

“Oh,” he said, as the winds and lightning suddenly stopped, sky-blue eyes surprised, “I should’ve known you’d be able to do this on your own”. He grinned, not the wolf-one, but a happy one.

Leo would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a pleasant tingle in his chest at the almost-praise. He preened, a smile breaking out across his face. Then the smile disappeared because this tower was old and damp and Leo was in a thin, too-big-for-him sweatshirt.

Leo rubbed his hands up and down his upper-arms, crossing his arms against his chest to keep in the warmth. He blinked away the fuzzy dark spots in his vision, shaking his head like he couldn't believe himself. It was like he overused his powers, but the only thing he did was heat up the chemicals to make the flash-bang.

Was he really this _weak?_

“Oh-oh! Please don't kill us wise demi-gods! We’ll do anything, just please don't kill us!”

Leo didn't know how they were talking in perfect unison, and personally? Leo didn't want to know.

“Why should we spare you? You raided our ship and took our belongings” Jason said, circling the Kerkopes with his gold sword out, the light from the sun catching on the blade and blinding the kerkopes, looking cool and manly and action-hero-y.

“We’ll-We’ll give you back your shinies!” one of them screeched, while the other pleaded “Please if you kill us, we’ll never get out of the Pit! Not with The Earth Mother in charge. She’ll never let us out!”

Leo wandered over to the piles of glinting objects, quick eyes scanning over each object. Most were obviously mortal stuff, necklaces and rings made out of fake gold, aluminum foil and other strange, but very obviously _mortal_ objects. He ran his hands through the pile, his brain sending signals of what he was touching and what it’s makeup was. His fingers wandered until they brushed _something,_ his brain stoping, and then immediately re-starting like an old engine. He had found Piper’s dagger, then. Godly metal always had a strange effect on him.

Two minutes of Leo rifling through the pile like an idiot later, he had his tool-belt, his Sphere and Piper’s _Kraptios_ back.

The Kerkopes had now de-evolved into full-on wailing. It was like a _nursery_. Also, Jason was getting antsy, his foot tapping against the stone floor in a rhythmic beat as he twirled his sword through his fingers.

That’s when Leo felt it, like-like a _tugging,_ in the center of his chest. ‘ _There!’_ his mind yelped, and his fingers reached back into the pile-

Jason walked over to the pile too, crouching down to pick up a gold-leafed book. In the back of his mind, he could hear Jason and the Kerkopes arguing over the book, Jason saying something about The Tim Burton kids, Nico and Hazel, and the Kerkopes arguing that they couldn’t take it, couldn’t give it back to some minor god in Venice.

“Hey, Jay, aren’t your Rome buddies marching on CHB right now?”

He needed something to pull him away from the _tugging,_ and right now a plan was forming in his head, swelling beneath his brain-stem. Jason turned to him and blinked warily, his eyes a dark, stormy blue. “I…..guess, Leo-what-”

Leo’s worst enemy when Leo was younger was that Leo was _soft._ He pitied people and he believed in mercy. Leo didn’t like unnecessary suffering, in fact, he **hated** it.

We _won’t_ kill you, but, you have to do something for me,” The kerkopes looked warily at Leo as he looked down onto the pile, shifting in their bonds, “I want you to cause some intense mischief for some friends of ours, The Romans. Steal their stuff, make them your worst enemy”.

The Kerkopes peaked up, their beady little eyes lighting up in joy. “Yes! Yes! Mischief we can do that! Name where they are and we swear upon the Styx we’ll cause mischief!”

Leo grinned, eyes catching the yellow glare of the sun, twisting them into something unnatural-

Leo turned back into the pile, his thin fingers closing around the cold hilt of something. Something that sent warm pulses from his hand up to his brain, washing him in a feeling of ‘ _home'-_

“Ever heard of New York?”

 

* * *

 

Hazel stormed up to them as they walked out of the tower, her gold eyes alight and her even gold-ier spatha was tight in her grip. She also had, like, a mountain of diamonds following in her footsteps. Like, cascading diamonds. The mortals seemed completely unbothered by this, as per usual.

Her angry storming stopped as soon as she got a good look at them, treasures in hand and looking perfectly fine.

“Oh, you did it already”

She sheathed her spatha and her eyes resumed their regular freaky-deaky gold color instead of that bright _ichor_ thing her eyes did when she freaked. Her face also went back to its natural state of adorableness, a smile breaking out across her face, replacing the fierce scowl she was wearing like 5 minutes ago. Leo was always stuck between calling Hazel adorable and being deathly afraid of calling her adorable.

Leo dramatically clasped the fabric over his heart, as if he was having a heart attack. “Oh, Hazel, your lack of confidence in me makes me sick with sadness!”, his face the picture of ‘young-widow-who-just-found-out-her-rich-elderly-husband-died-in-mysterious-circumstances’.

Oh, Jason, catch me,” he said as he swooned, and Jason reluctantly held Leo up by his armpits, his arm muscles flexing underneath, which made Leo’s face go red _extremely quickly_ and _-_

Leo concentrated very intensely on the treasures in Leo’s arms, Pipes dagger, his Sphere, the weird book and, even weirder, a sword-dagger thing.

The dwarves got freaked when they tried to take the book and the dagger, claiming the book would get Akmon and Passalos killed, but the dagger would do much worse than kill them.

Leo never really got that. Death was dead. You could recover from anything except for death. That was literally the whole point of death, was that it, y’know, _killed you._ Jason pushed Leo back up, rolling his eyes, a minuscule smile tugging on his lips. Jason was…..sadder now than he was back when Leo first _really_ met him. He could chalk it up to the fact they were on a suicide mission and his Camp was going to war with Camp Half-Blood, or maybe even something to do with Piper. She had confided in him that they felt….distant, right before they set off to Camp Jupiter.

Leo imagined them breaking-up.

It would be like Lois Lane and Clark Kent not ending up together. It was almost impossible to think about.

‘ _Maybe if they broke up, you wouldn’t be the seventh wheel anymore….’_ his mind whispered to him, immediately souring his mood. Was Leo really that selfish to want his two best-friends to break up just because Leo was _lonely?._

Gods, he was pathetic.

While his brain had its little tirade, Jason gifted Hazel the book, saying something like “Venice-Minor God- you need?”

Well, that was an incredibly abridged version, and Leo’s ears only caught so much. Or Leo’s ears were just fine and all that knocking Jason got to his pretty little noggin was really starting to affect him. His tool-belt was back in its rightful place on his skinny hips, the weight of it familiar and comforting. Piper’s dagger was in there too, for safekeeping. So Leo was left holding his sphere, and the dagger. Or the sword. It was hard to tell the difference sometimes.

Nyssa had lectured him extensively on the different kinds of weapons, adamant that the head counselor of Cabin 9 _needed_ to know these things.

It looked like a large, curved knife. A thin point at the top and the blade was one-sided. The curve, which made the bottom thick and the top thin, was in the middle, perfectly suited to lobbing off the heads of your enemy. The blade was short, a bit like Hazel's spatha. If he held the hilt backward in his hand, the blade fits snugly in the crook of his elbow and it was still deadly sharp, even if it looked older than Leo's entire family line.

The blade was gold in color, while the hilt was brown leather with gold and bronze lining. The blade had written along the top of its blade, following the curve. It was in an alphabet Leo didn't recognize, but the writing makes Leo weirdly uncomfortable-

“Leo, C'mon, let's go-”

Leo was so distracted by the blade he didn't even think to make a Mario joke.

 

* * *

 

Thomas was bored.

Bored. Bored-Bored. BoredBoredBored-

“By the Lord’s Grace, do you ever shut up!” huffed Lucy, her head buried in her arms.

“No, I despise the quiet of this place too much, little girl” he retorted back, watching the room they were in, a sitting room with a warm fire, shift into a room with bright walls and a long, dark table. Meeting Time, he supposed.

Thomas dragged Lucy into a seat, her eyes promising much pain when they learned how to get out. Thomas gave her a shit-eating grin, and her eyes blazed with hatred.

So much for love among countrymen.

He took his seat across from her and felt Biskane take her seat beside him, her anger like ash on his tongue.

She was always angry.

He loved it and he hated it.

Dirk came next, plopping into his seat beside Lucy, a small smile on his face. Ever the optimist.

Anastasio came next, the old bastard. He had lived the longest out of all of them until it got to him. Lucy and he had always argued if it was The Sickness that got to him or the guilt. Lucy had always said The Sickness. _‘Everyone falls to the sickness’_ she’d parrot, green eyes thin and judgmental.

Thomas had argued that Anastasio had reached a bargain, and therefore The Sickness couldn't have affected him. It was the guilt.

The Sickness never killed them, no matter what way it seemed.

It was always the guilt.

Tadgh toddled in after him, his big brown eyes watching Anastasio and Thomas warily.

He nervously wrung his hands as he took his seat next to the Queen of Anger herself, Biskane. _‘The hare and the wolf’_ he thought bitterly. Both him and Biskane had reason to hate Thomas and Lucy equally, red-blooded English as they were. Biskane, who was still wary of Europeans after all these years, and Tadgh, who hated the people who stole his land and his religion.

Didn’t help the sting of their stares heal quicker, though.

Faith and Raphael were the last to come in. As Raphael was the youngest, Faith was charged with being his protector, caring for the boy. She took her place next to Anastasio, while Raphael sat next to Tadgh, who gave the youngling a small ruffle of his fluffy black hair.

“Well, where’s our brave and daring leader, lads?” came Tadgh’s grating voice, his accent tearing through the words. Even after all these years, his accent had not gotten easier to listen to.

“ **Here”**

They all sat stock-straight in their high-backed chairs, their faces impassive.

They all knew how this went. She appeared out of the wall, her form chopping in and out, like reality could barely contain her.

Her face was a burnt mass of bone and flesh, her skull clearly visible through the tattered remains of her skin. She had no mouth, only the bones of her teeth and her skull, which was burnt shut. She was bald, save for a few patches of damp, matted hair, which were burnt and crispy.

Her body faired no better.

Her skin, completely blackened by fire, save for a few patches of red and pink muscle or ligament which shone through the cracked, black skin. The only article of clothing was a small, tattered white dress, which hung from her shoulders and stopped at her knees. Average for her time. She floated above the floor, her pointed toes a few centimeters above the white tiles.

She raised her remaining hand, her left, the other had cracked in half at the elbow, leaving pinky muscle and ligament to hang off it. From deep within her empty eye sockets, a blaze started, a small, bright fire making for eyes in the center of the sockets. Bright blues and dark red and mild oranges, like the sunsets he used to see with his grandmother in Snowshill-

**“We must discuss the boy”**

Ah, ever the conversationalist, their leader.

“Must we always be discussing him? Why not, hm, I don’t know, the imminent destruction of the _world_ ”

She did not seem impressed by Thomas’ suggestion. Neither was Biskane, judging by her kick to his shin. She turned the burnt mass of her head in Thomas’ direction, the skin of her neck flaking and cracking, spilling fresh blood down her neck and chest.

 If he didn’t know her better, he’d say she looked _pleased._

**“He has found it,”** she said wondrously, joy creeping into her disembodied voice, **”He has found His Weapon”.**

You could hear a fucking pin drop _-_

She threw her head back, cracking her skin and spurting blood everywhere, a high-pitched scream he supposed could be a laugh bursting fort from her head, clawing at his brain.

  
**“We are** **_free”_ **

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A strange woman appears in the room, the Leader, obviously severely burnt and clearly not normal or even of this world. She speaks in a heavy, dark voice and says that they 'must discuss the boy'. Thomas gives a witty retort about the oncoming destruction of the world and discussing that instead. The girl is unmoved. She does, however, express immense joy at the subject of the 'Boy' finding the 'Weapon', going so far as to 'laugh'. She exclaims 'we are free'. The chapter ends.]


	4. Leo's guide to surviving fire-powers, trauma, the sudden existential realization that you are the child of a god and wet-dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!
> 
> Its me! The village idiot! hnnhhhnh! Please feed me kudos and comments like the hob-goblin that i am. Theories too, if y'all have any! I'de be stoked if y'all had theories 
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings for this Chapter; discussion of masturbation and slightly graphic self-harm. its not too bad in my opinion, but, eh. be careful, lads. The scene starts at the line 'the Engine Room. His sanctuary' and ends at 'piper feels spread thin'. head to the end notes if you want to skip it and I'll explain what you missed. 
> 
> :)

 

 

Venice.

A city known for its canals and history and love and Egyptian cow monsters. Well, maybe not that last one, but the cow monsters were pretty evident as they sailed in, rambling around the place like old dogs.

The mortals, as usual, saw something completely different. Stray dogs, apparently. It always weirded Leo out that he could see shit other people couldn't.  

Of course, Leo wasn't feeling quite up to the task of running all over a damp, disgusting city filled with the bovines from Hell, so he bullshits his way out of it. Nothing gets you out of something quicker than spurting some bullshit about upgrades to the engines. Leo is also bone-tired since his expedition in Bolognese Town, so his immediate dismissal is positively orgasm worthy. Well, not literally, because Leo is so busy saving the world his hormones have taken a slight backseat. Also, jerking off brings up some…..uncomfortable facts about Leo, which Leo would prefer to never talk and/or think about ever.

As the old saying goes; It can't hurt you if you just completely ignore it until the problem goes away.

 

In the end, its Frank, Hazel and, surprisingly, Nico that go. Frank because Frank is like, half animal, and Hazel ‘cause she's gotta give the book back to that minor God.

Nico goes because, and Leo quotes, can sense the dead in the city and is _interested_.

The dude was one Johnny Depp away from a live-action Tim Burton movie

So, Leo watches a Hot Topic wet dream, a pudgy Chinese-Canadian beast-boy and a girl who has far too much in common with Captain America to be normal trudge into the city of Venice, disappearing into the crowds and the waves of heat forming above the streets, their backs to them.

Then, Hedge claps his hands, eerily similar to when he used to teach them at Wilderness, and shoos them off the deck. Jason, of course, tells Hedge that they need _someone_ up on deck, by default volunteering himself and Hedge almost launches his bat at Jason’s poor, delicate skull.

“ _Sleep, Grace!”_ he screeches, holding his bat high in the sky and Jason looks torn between walking away and drawing his sword. In the end, Jason jogs back below deck, wisely choosing not to take on the angry-bat-wielding-satyr.

Piper follows him, a weird determined look on her face, her eyes sharp and her hair flying behind her as she strides down after him.

Leo looks at Hedge like, ‘ _you know what’s happening?’,_ left eyebrow raised in question. Hedge shrugs his shoulders helplessly, and Leo has to bite down on the urge to scream. Why _couldn’t_ people act in _predictable_ and _normal_ ways so Leo wouldn’t have to play _emotional sudoku_ with everyone he came into contact with. He threw his hands up to the heavens as if pleading with any of the gods smite his friends until they worked normally again. Maybe they could smite him too, making him a bit more manageable to himself.  

He trudged downstairs, his ears picking up at the muffled but firm voices coming from the dining room.

 

Christ.

 

This, also, gave him an uncomfortable feeling of dejavu, but he couldn’t remember where from. It was on the tip of his tongue, right behind his eyes, like he could almost reach it with the tip of his fingers-

Whatever it was, the memory of Piper and Jason talking alone in the dining room was on the metaphorical high-shelf, and Leo could not reach.

He collapsed into his bedroll at the feet of Nike, rolling onto his stomach and resisting the urge to bash his head off the floor until he either died or fell into unconsciousness. Sadly, if he did that, someone would have the misfortune of cleaning up his dead body.

So, he settled for punching the floor, pain bursting up from his knuckles, where he's broken skin.

The pain did clear his head, however.

And, okay, what the Hades Leo. He shook his head, his curls bouncing around like children on a bouncy castle. _That_ was a train of thought he probably shouldn't go back to.

He humphed and rolled onto his back, staring at the high wood ceiling. One hand was thrown back, his hand nestled in his hair like he could physically keep himself grounded and the other was resting on his stomach. The room felt extra small, due to The Statue and the hot, damp air acted as a kind of atmospheric blanket, covering him and warming his cold skin. Leo could smell the air, a tangy mix of oil and wood and drew in a deep breath. He blinked rapidly, startled at how heavy his eyes felt, how heavy his body felt and how he really just wanted to fall, fall into a warm slumber in this safe, dark place.

He sat up suddenly, shaking his head like he could chase away the heavy fog that was currently sitting on his brain, making everything hazy and thick, like honey. He slapped his cheeks, trying in vain to wake himself up. What was with him lately? Was he sick? Dying? Leo _didn't think_ he was dying, but do you know who else didn't think they were dying? JFK.

Maybe it was like a puberty thing?. Leo was pretty sure this wasn't on the pamphlet he got about puberty in middle school. But maybe this was just part of Leo's special demigod puberty.   
  
_'You'll start to grow hair in weird places and think strange thoughts. However, if you're Leo Valdez, these weird thoughts will be about your 8th-grade science teacher and you'll light your bedsheets on fire in an aborted attempt to jerk off'_   
  
Leo should make a pamphlet like that. _Leo's guide to surviving fire-powers, trauma, the sudden existential realization that you are the child of a god and wet-dreams._ Millions of copies sold worldwide. New York Times bestseller.   
  
What the fuck was he thinking about? Fucking ADHD.  
  
He hid his head in his arms and screeched, his palms muffling his screams.    
  
After about a minute of pointless, muffled screaming, Leo threw himself into his work. Which mostly consisted of him trying to make Star-Wars stuff into reality with varying degrees of success. Nothing quite like high-level engineering and mathematics to relax him on a weekday morning.   
  
He was elbow-deep and bent over his engine when he heard it. A ringing. A high, tinny sound that reverberated around his left eardrum. He straightened up slightly, pushing his goggles up with an oil-stained hand, leaving smears of oil around his cheekbones. He blinked into the dimness of the Engine Room, his eyes unfocused from concentrating too much. His curls were pushed back by a red bandana.   
  
_'Are you seriously going to work with machines with that mop on top of your head, hermano? Come here, use this-'_  
  
Nyssa was such a worry-wart.   
  
Leo blinked into the darkness once more before turning back to his work, seemingly happy with that fact the ringing probably came from-  
  
_Leonidas_.   
  
His breath caught in his throat.   
  
His eyes were wide as he tugged both hands out of the engine, oil dripping from his hands onto the floor. _'I should've worn gloves'_ he thought as he stared into the shadows. They seemed to grow to longer he stared at them, curling and widening and growing and consuming the walls, reaching out towards him-  


  
                                                                                                                                         _Leo-ni-_ **_das_ ** .   
  


Someone was calling his name. He could hear them. But no-one on the ship knew his full name. And that was with reason. He hated his name.   
  
If nobody knew his name, then who was calling him?.   
  
His skin grew cold and hot and clammy and his eyes were wide, with fear or confusion he didn't know. His breath came in sharp inhales and slow exhales, desperate to keep his breathing as quiet as possible.

  
  
                                                                             _'Leonidas Samuel-Anastasio Valdez. My_ **_legacy_ ** **'**

  


the shadows spoke and-

 

Leo tumbled back, his knees turning to jelly. He scrambled back, his feet pushing him back from the darkness, his hands slipping on the floor from the oil.   
  
"Wh-Who's there?" he ventured, his voice shaky and high and weak. His body shook with tremors. _'imgoingtodieimgoingtodieimgoingtodie'_ was a mantra that ricocheted around his head like a bouncing DVD logo.   
  
For a long moment, the only sound Leo could hear was the blood rushing in his ears, his body tingling with adrenaline   
  
The shadows did not answer back.   
  
He blinked and everything just....went back to normal. Like he had taken off his reality-altering glasses. The shadows returned to being normal shadows, the air seemed thinner, easier to breathe.   
  
Leo could feel his breath come softer, he could feel his body relax and his skin stopped tingling.   


Leo assumes he's going insane.

 

* * *

 

  
Leo cleaned himself up after that…..episode, changing out of his work clothes into a CHB t-shirt and denim jeans, working on auto-pilot. His brain was detached from his body, his nerves covered in cotton and his eyes were pulled down by lead weights.   
  
He went for a quick shower, washing sweat and grime and oil from places he didn't even know existed, oil mixing with the clear warm water. He watched, his brain in a heavy haze, as the blackened water ran down the drain.

The spray of the warm water bounced off his back and shoulders, falling in rivulets down his skinny as fuck body. He could feel the water running through his scalp and onto his face, gliding over the planes of his face, water droplet catching on his eyelashes. He ran fingers through his hair, fingers catching on knots. Eventually, he sat, his back against the wall, his legs spread out in front of him. The water, now spraying directly onto his stomach, was beating against his skin in a comforting rhythm.

Why was he so _tired_? Why did everything seem so big and at the same time, too small? He felt trapped and cornered, nowhere to go, surrounded by an invisible enemy. His body felt too weak, his mind too tired.

He felt.

 

alone.

 

He gasped into the hot, damp air of his bathroom, his eyes blinking against the torrent of water falling against his face. His chest felt too tight, his face too hot, his skin too clammy-

He blindly fiddled with the controls of the shower, as he tried to stand, until it suddenly shut off, leaving Leo standing like an idiot, gasping for breath and naked. After a hot second, he composed himself, blunt nails leaving cresent shapes on his chest as he grasped the skin above his heart. He shook his wet hair out like a dog as he stepped out, drying himself quickly.

He was mindful of his back and thighs, the rough towel ghosting carefully over them. His back was tight, the scars protesting when he massaged them with his knuckles. Leo sat on the edge of the bath/shower and he stretched his hands behind his back, fingers interlaced and almost fell over with satisfaction when he heard the tell-tale cracking of his spine. He massaged his inner thigh with his thumbs, firm but careful.

Of course, his hands being that close to his thigh can only cause two things. A flashback, and-

 

Other stuff.

 

And since Leo had the luck of a dude who had broken many, _many_ mirrors in his lifetime, felt the blood rush from his head to his- ah-

 

Other head.

 

_‘Nope. No. Stop it. We literally do not have the time or the energy or do this. No’_

He thought un-horny thoughts, like poetry and his abuelita and his Tía and Gaia-

Eventually, things….returned to their normal state, leaving him very aware he was naked in his bathroom, covered by only a towel around his skinny shoulders. The hair on his arms was raised in the cold and he shivered. Leo quickly tugged on his clothes, quickly checking his appearance in the mirror. His hair was still damp, the curls darkened by the water dripping onto his shirt and his cheeks had a tint of red underneath his dark skin, but that could easily be passed off as being from the heat of the water, and not from- other, hornier things.

 

As he walked out of his bathroom to his Engine room he couldn’t help but think-

Leo knew that having a little alone time, tugging the one eyed-snake, being the snake in one’s proverbial boot, jerking off, having a yank, beating the meat, whatever you wanted to call it was perfectly natural. Being horny as fuck as a teenage boy was usually pretty common, Leo knew that. He was _well_ acquainted with it. He probably would still be happily be doing it if not for, the….. _thing._

He shut the door behind him as he slipped into the engine room, dropping his still wet head into his hands. Before Rome, Leo had a dream, not one of those ‘demi-god dreams’ just a normal, teenage dream. A wet dream. Which, while embarrassing on its own, was worsened by _who_ he dreamt of. He vividly remembers waking up, still half-hard and confused from here to Ukraine, hair askew and his skin on fire, both metaphorically and physically.

 

After all, what normal person has wet-dreams about their _best friend_? Who’s, not to mention, dating their _other_ best friend.

Leo’s always known that’s he’s been into dudes, but it’s not that big of a deal really. He’s not like, _gay_ -gay. He just so happens to sometimes like dudes. But it’s not like Leo’s ever acted on his feelings. So, he’s fine. No, really, he is.

He’s a mess and his head feels like it’s on the edge of bursting out of his skull, his skin is too tight and his fingers are too long and his eyes are melting from his eye sockets. Is he dying? He claws at his neck, blunt nails leaving small marks where they catch on his skin and he wants it all to stop.

 

The Engine Room. His sanctuary. His home. The air smells like iron and smoke and oil and wood.

He’s scrambling up to his workbench before he even realizes what he’s doing.

 

He tears through his bench, looking and searching, thinking _‘just this once. Once. that’s all. that’s it’._

His long, bony, fingers clamp down on the weapon he found in Bologna and that same feeling of warmth pulses up through his hand and into his body, giving him the feeling of stepping into a warm bath or being wrapped in a soft blanket, but-

 

But-

 

But.

 

It’s missing that- that bite. He needs this. He needs this. He needs this.

 

_(they need this. do it. fall for us, godling)_

 

So he holds the sword/dagger in his right hand and presses the blade against the warm, dark skin of his left forearm and against all logic, all sanity, he presses down and pulls back-

 

_Ohfuckohfuckohfuck-_

 

The painful bite comes first, then the feeling of rightness, of deserving that, of _needing that_ and then-then the shame comes and swallows him whole, suddenly filling his lungs with liquid guilt, and he-he-

 

3 years of being clean and Leo has just fucked it all down the drain. Every promise he’s made to keep clean, he’s just broke. He watches as blood runs from the wounds in rivulets, dripping onto the floor. The cut is long and deep, but not too deep. Just deep enough to make him hate himself, but not deep enough to kill him.

 

He drops to his knees and the sword drops out of his hand.

 

The Sword. It's a Kopis Sword. He remembers it.

 

He picks it back up.

 

* * *

  
  


Piper feels spread thin.

She also feels like she’s not doing anything. It’s an interesting combination like her mind can’t decide between she’s too useful or not useful at all.

Leo is sick. She hates that Leo is sick because it’s not the normal kind of sick, where Leo will act up for attention and demand Piper make him soup. It’s the kind where Leo is actually sick. When he shuts himself up in some crawl-space and talks with a honey-covered tongue. Piper may have charmspeak, but Leo’s always been quicker with his tongue, quick to lie with a smile.

Nico, their newest addition is suicidal. No other words for it. Whatever happened to him before Piper met him has affected him in the worst ways. Which, of course, makes him a bitch to look after. Which, in turn, stresses Hazel out on top of her weasel problem and her little dance she has going on with Hecate. Frank is still unsure of himself and Hedge is obviously worried for his wife.

Percy and Annabeth.

 

Percy and Annabeth are-

 

Percy and Annabeth aren’t here.

 

Jason.

When Piper first met Jason, she met a lie. The personalities may have been the same but there was something very different from Mist-Jason and Actual-Jason. Something base-level different. Maybe it was the way Jason’s eyes weren’t as expressive as the Mist Memory. Maybe it was fitting. Mist Jason was like the sun. Warm and Bright and Sharp. The perfect lie, with just enough truth for it to be believable.

Jason. Actual Jason. Jason Grace, Son of Jupiter and Praetor of the Roman Legion was, predictably, like the wind. Sharp, strong and too much. But he was also warm and bright too. He was constant and changeable, a whole contradiction wrapped in the pretty wrapping of a blue-eyed, blond Californian hunk.

Fuck him. Actually no, fuck Hera- or Juno- or whatever her name was. She had been fucking Jason’s life up since he was old enough to walk and the thing she pulled with Piper and Leo and the mist memories was just another part of her latest scheme.

And Leo and Piper were just the tools.

Maybe not Leo, Hera’s always had a weird spot for him, but _Piper_ has just been a means to an end for Hera. And maybe she is. Piper knows that she can't turn into animals or summon whole storms or engineer a working magical ship or control the dead or manipulate reality-

Piper has a nice voice and a pretty face.

Not exactly a useful ability in combat in the face of elephants and storms and tsunamis and fire.

 

But Piper was not raised to be a little bitch.

 

Before her Dad really started to drift away from her, around 11 years old, he sat her down. She remembers him kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in his much larger ones, his dark skin mixing with hers perfectly. Dark eyes meeting.

‘ _Pipes. Your life isn’t going to be easy and I can’t hide you from that forever. You’re a Cherokee girl and no matter how far I run from it,_ **_you_ ** _can’t run from your heritage, Piper. Your ancestors survived genocide and trauma just so we could be here, but not everyone remembers we were here first so- just- just promise me, Pipes, that you’ll always get back up. Every time they push you down, Piper, you_ _get back up’_

So, here she is.

She’s just cornered Jason in the dining room, which is unnaturally dark without the Camp projections on the wall. They’ve been talking for the better part of an hour here. About what to do next, where they’re going next, what they’re going to do about Leo, why isn’t Jason sleeping properly, why won’t Piper talk to Jason anymore until it devolves into what her siblings would call _a domestic._

Then.

Dark eyes met blue and the spark she remembers isn’t- isn’t-

 

It isn’t there.

 

Oh.

She closes her eyes against his, that perfect, unrelating blue and understands. Piper has matured since The Quest for Hera and she understands a lot more. About being a daughter of Aphrodite. It is about love and lust and that but it’s also about empathy and understanding.

It hurts, but she understands.

 

So, in true Aphrodite Child fashion, she grows a pair of ovaries and opens her mouth.

 

“Guys! Holy- You gotta, c’mon- you gotta see this!”

One day, she’s going to wrap her hands around Leo’s skinny neck and fucking _squeeze-_

 

“What Leo?” she growls and Leo, who has just barged into the room suddenly looks between Piper and Jason like a confused spectator at a tennis match and his face slowly morphs from confusion to understanding to panic.

 

“Oh”

 

‘Oh’ is right, Valdez.

“What is it, Leo? Are you okay?” Jason asks, his fingers resting on the hilt of his sword. Leo blinks dumbly at Jason for a few seconds, a crease forming between his brows and he shakes his head, backing out of the room.

“Yeah-Yeah man I’m fine, but, it’s just, uh, Frank, got- like I don’t know how to explain it without being weird-”. The more Leo talks the more confused they get and that’s when Piper notices it. Leo’s sort of ducking his head so it’s hard to see, but-

He’s blushing.

A deep, dark blush on his cheekbones, on his neck. Piper wonders how he’s not on fire.

 

Jason walks past him, almost running up deck while Piper and Leo follow him. Piper turns to ask Leo why he’s acting as if Mila Kunis had suddenly appeared-

“What the fuck” she breathes as she sees the newly returned trio. Hazel, who is looking a bit worse for wear but standing tall and Nico, who is looking as disgruntled as ever and Frank

And Frank.

She, objectively knows, that the three of them look like idiots. Jason, who is staring at Frank like he suddenly announced that he could control the sea, and Piper and Leo, who are stuck staring at Frank’s midriff like it holds to map to the Holy Grail.

“What”

Ah, Jason. Feared Praetor of Rome, brought to his knees by an extremely buff dude.

“Uh-hi, guys? We got some stuff from Trip, these cakes things, they’ll help us survive The House, apparently- uh, guys?”. Frank is talking and Piper is hearing fucking zilch. His arms are probably bigger than Leo and he’s suddenly 6’4 and his shoulders look like they could balance several people on them and you could use his abs like a whole-ass cheese grater.

 

“ _Why?”_ is the only thing that Piper could think that wasn’t, ‘ _hey, can I touch your abs in a totally platonic way, bro’._

“Blessing from Mars for fighting off all the….egyptian cows. He fought bravely, so Mars blessed him” says Hazel, looking like she doesn’t feel too different from Piper, judging from the way her eyes keep locked on Frank’s abs.

“A- blessing?” Leo croaks, eyes wide. His eyes are now looking at the sky, pointedly looking away from Frank.

Ah, we meet again, Leo’s suppressed sexuality.

“Yes? I guess?” Frank admits, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, ducking his head.

“Ah- cool”

So the Sun set that day, as the Argo raised anchor and set off, as tensions ran high and everyone was sort of turned on by Frank’s buff-up, Piper realized she didn't finish her conversation with Jason.

 

_Ah, fuck._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Leo felt like someone strapped him to a truck like those toys at the end of Toy Story 3.

He was manning the helm with on his own, mostly tuning out reality. His vision blurred at the edges and his skin felt so cold. Cold enough Leo was wearing a hoodie over his CHB shirt. His hands ghosted over the controls and he waved his Wii remote every so often, not really using his brain. He just did. Innate feeling and moving along with some invisible current guiding his hands along.

After a while, his joints start to lock up from the cold, the scars on his back tightening. He pressed his hand to his back and bit back a gasp of pain. Why the fuck was he so cold? He never got this cold. He shook his body, putting the Wii controllers back in their slots.

He looked up to the Crows Nest, his hair whipping in the wind. The ship rocked in the mild sea and his stomach swopped-

He needed to be higher- he needed _air,_ so he scrambled up the mast, the air tugging at his clothes as he went higher and higher and higher. Leo collapsed onto the floor of the Nest, breathing hard in the thin air. He pushed himself onto his knees, digging his hands into the denim of his jeans-

 

“What are you doing, Valdez?”

 

_Oh, my fucking gods-_

He leaned back in surprise, the air bursting from his lungs in shock. But this was a Crows Nest and Leo was on the edge and the thing behind him was cold cool air. His eyes were ripped open his fear and his hand jerked out, desperate to catch onto anything-to anyone.

He didn't even have time to scream. And then his body suddenly stopped, jerking in mid-air as a cold hand clasped around his wrist. His body dangled in the air and Di Angelo dragged him back into the Nest.

“ _Jesus fucking Christ, Di Angelo!_ Do you get off on the thought of me dead? Fuck!” he yelled once he was standing, pushing Di Angelo away from him, brushing invisible lint off his hoodie.

Baby-faced Andy Biersack narrowed his eyes at him, his dark eyes tearing into Leo. “You're the guy who was so frightened by me _speaking_ that you nearly _died._ Also, no I do not”

Leo huffed, but sat down anyways, his legs dangling off the edge. He could see Festus’ head and the deep, dark curling sea beneath. It was peaceful. It would've been more peaceful if Di Angelo wasn't standing behind him like a fucking specter.

“Sweet Apollo, Di Angelo, sit down or something. You're freaking me out, standing behind me, like you're gonna pull some Perdix/Daedalus shit”

Nico fumbled behind him for a moment before he sat down beside him, a few spaces of air between their arms. It was weird, being this close to him. It was like standing next to a shadow, except the shadow had eyes and a mouth and skin.

“Why the Nest?”

He asks the question before he can even think about it and once he registers that he _actually_ said it, he wants to do nothing more than pull the words back into his mouth.

Surprisingly enough, however, is that Nico answers.

“It's calm up here. I can see everything and I can think without being interrupted”

It's obviously only a half-truth, but Leo isn't expecting anything else.

“What about you? You seem pretty content to be the center of attention. I didn't think you'd even like The Nest. Too far away from everyone” Nico says bitterly and Leo sort of knows that Nico sounds jealous, but-

For some reason-

He puts the mask to the side, for a while, because who's Di Angelo gonna tell? If Leo _really_ talks to him Nico can't do jack-shit.

“I've spent the past 7 years alone, chico. This kind of solitude is my natural habitat”

Nico stiffened beside him, his body stick-straight.

“You don't- I- You don't act like it. At all” Nico says, some of the steel in his voice wavering.

Leo is stuck between laughing and crying. As per usual. He hadn't realized how _straight-forward_ Nico was. Or- Leo didn't know- sheltered, he guessed? He settled for letting out a little snicker, pulling his legs up beneath him, sitting in a meditation pose.

 

“ _Aye, ese,_ did they not have acting where you come from? Most people put up an act. I've just gotten better at it than your average joe”

He could _feel_ Nico's little ‘ _hrmph’_ from his spot. “Of course we had acting in Italy. And I'm not an idiot. I know people aren't ever honest. I- It's just you're good at it, I suppose. I wasn't expecting it”. Leo chuckled, even more, Nico's obvious bewilderment with him was pretty fucking funny if Leo could say so himself.

“Ah, you're Italian? Cool. Cool. I personally always thought you were like Spock, y'know, kinda alien?”

Nico stared dumbly at him.

Leo came to the horrific realization that Nico did not know what _Star Trek_ was. He also resolved to get this poor kid some pop-culture knowledge.

“Why do you keep it up?”

 _Why do you keep it up?._ Why did Leo keep up the charade? Wasn't that the million-dollar question. “I dunno,” Leo answered truthfully, “I guess it's the fact that I've been playing the act for so long that I've become the act. The mask has been metaphorically fused to my face, chico. Doesn't help that 7th wheel shit has been everywhere”.

 

“7th wheel?”

 

“Ah- I’d rather not talk about it”

 

“Okay”

After that, it lulled into silence. It wasn't a bad silence. Actually, Leo was more than happy to continue in the silence. Leo's ADHD was not. So he shoved his hand into his belt and came out with-

  _His fucking Marlboro Reds-_

 

 _‘Oh shit- ah-_ **_fuck’_**

Nico, apparently having the senses of a drug dog, grabbed the packet out of Leo's hand before Leo could shove it away.

“Hey! Nico! What the sweet hell! Didn't your mother ever teach you not to steal?” he screeched as Nico examined them. Leo didn't want to risk a tussle that would end with Leo dead on the deck, so all he could do was try to reach them without excessive force.

“You smoke?”

 

Nico asked this question with an almost smirk on his face and Leo was going to kill the kid.

“Yes. Yes, I do. Now, if you would be so _kind_ as to give them _back-”_ he struggled as Nico held them away.

 

“I want to try one”

What.

Leo blinked dumbly at Nico, his dark eyes wide in confusion. Dark eyes stared back in defiance. Was Nico seriously asking to _bum_ a _smoke_ off him?.

"You're like 14 and I'm terrified of your sister. So no”

“Chronologically I'm actually in my 80s. Also, when did _you_ start smoking?”

“First of all, that's chronological. Not biologically. So, still 14. Also, none of your damn business _guey”_

Nico scowled at him but placed the box back in Leo's palm. He smiled at him, giving a flourishing “ _Thank you”,_ and out of pure spite, slipped one between his teeth and lit it with the flame on the end of his index finger.

He blew the smoke into Di Angelo's face, who spluttered and coughed and gave Leo the most withering stare. He smirked around the cigarette, breathing in the thick, heavy smoke and swirling it around his mouth.

 

It was then that his head _tilted,_ the blood in his head rushing to one side and his eyes burned with something unknown. He dropped his head into his right hand, propping his elbow up on his knee, his left holding the cigarette. Tiny little fireworks burst behind his head, bashing up against the inside of his skull and sending him reeling. The pressure in his head was too much, the blood vessels pressing against his skin.  He dug fingers into his hair, pushing dull nails into his soft scalp.

He was hyperventilating, air escaping in quick puffs between clenched teeth.

 

“-o, Va-ez? e- Le- ez?”

 

His shoulders heaved with his breaths and his vision swam with the colors, the brown and the blue and the black mixing together. Hot hands kept him up, which were smaller than Jason's but were sufficient. The arms were around his waist and his shoulders to keep him from falling onto the deck like Leo-pancake.

 

He giggled and the voice was _too much_ and the pressure on his head was _too much_ and the heat coming from Nico was _too much_ and-

And.

And. He passed out into Di Angelo's chest.

 

 

* * *

  
  


He is running.

They are chasing him. All because he wanted them to be free. To feel _something._ He was gifting them with _thought._ Why did they hate it? Weren't they unlike their predecessors? Who hated and destroyed and consumed all they saw?

They were meant to be the future, to right the wrongs of their ancestors. Instead they horde it. The power. Afraid and untrusting. They punish both of them. One for gifting it, the other for stealing it. They call them mongrels, betrayers, all kinds of titles but they both hold strong.

What they did was _right_. And their names shall never be forgotten.

By Mortal or God.

His Uncle has been captured. Taken by those he betrayed his family for. They gave everything up for the Gods once Lord Zeus called his siblings to arms and overthrew Lord Kronos. They may have been both _filthy Titans_ but what they are doing is **right.** It is kind and compassionate and will change the course mankind takes.

His Sister is fond of the term ‘crossroads’ so he applies it to the Mortals. Mankind is at a ‘crossroads’. Stuck between three paths. Unable to choose

He and his uncle are just helping them to choose. Giving them the _ability_ to choose. He is flying high, his golden wings spread to catch the air as he races away from the wrath of Olympus.

 **“Catch him! I want him punished! Treachery and deceit!”** Zeus screams, the sky shaking with his fury and-

He realizes he is a _fool_ -

He's escaping from the Sky God by _Sky._ The air underneath his wings shudders and subsidies-

And he falls-

His golden wings still outstretched as he falls and falls and-

 

Tassos Falls.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Leo uses the sword from Bologna to self-harm, falling back into old habits. He recognizes the sword as a Kopis Sword. Leo seems to be slightly influenced by something, with the line '(they need this. do it. fall for us, godling)' sneaking into his monologue]
> 
>  
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! :)


	5. two bros, chillin on a bed, five feet apart cause they're (not) gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhhhhh its ya boy, skinny penis. 
> 
>  
> 
> Im tipsy please excuse any spelling mistakes or just mistakes in general. Including the author

  


Nico remembers Leo's head tilting forward as Nico tries to steady him, his body tense and shaking.

Is it a seizure? Nico's never had to deal with seizures before, so, as per usual, Nico is useless. He’s calling Leo’s name, hands gripping his skinny body so he won’t simply tumble onto the deck and make an unwelcome visit to Father.

“ _Leo! Leo Valdez!”_ he hisses as Leo stiffens against him and suddenly-

Lax.

He falls into Nico’s chest, but as soon as his curly hair droops into Nico’s shirt, he’s back up again, eyes blinking and gripping his head with his right hand. Nico steadies him by holding his shoulders, shifting around so he’s directly facing Leo.

Leo squints and his breathing is hard and uneven. His cheeks, which were red from the wind, are now paler, dark bags suddenly under his eyes. If Leo was in his right mind, he’d probably make a joke about how similar he looked to Nico and he can visualize it so well that Nico actually has to bite back a retort to a jab that no-one has even said.

Leo mumbles something, but his speech is so slurred that Nico only hears a jumble of sounds. “Leo?” Nico hazards once again, gripping his hoodie too tightly, nearly tearing the fabric. There's silence for a few seconds, neither boy speaking. Eventually, Leo tips his head back and he looks Nico in the eyes, dark eyes meeting warm brown.

“Leo? Say something”

Then, like the toss of a coin, Leo changes. His hazy brown eyes become shiny with tears and he _whimpers._

Oh.

Oh, this is probably bad.

Nico, over the years, has learned how to treat various injuries. Being alone for 4 years as a child of Hades requires you to be able to treat wounds and broken bones. This is neither of those things, so, Nico has no idea what to do.

“F-Fu-Fuck, it-ah- hurts”

Nico grips Leo’s shoulders and tips them both into the shadows on the floor. Its second nature to Nico now, shadow-traveling, but his body is weak since his time in Tartarus. They both spill onto the deck, Nico panting and Leo on the verge of tears from pain.

Why is Nico so _damn_ weak?

He shakes his body and blinks away memories the shadows, the familiar cold clinging to his body like a second skin. He crawls over to Leo, who is staring up at the stars, not seeing anything. The tears are still in his eyes, but unshed. His lip is bleeding too, from where he apparently bit it.

“I'm going to….get help- don't move?” he says, wording it like a question. Can Leo even move?

“N- _hijo de puta!_ No- fuck- No help, _no necesito ayuda-”_

“Why not? I don't know how to help you when you're like this, _idiota”_

Leo blinked up at him, eyes suddenly hard, his mouth pressed into a determined line. “Just, get me to my room, please Nico?”

And.

Nico is about 2 seconds from getting his sister or Piper, but.

He understands. Not wanting to be a burden, not wanting help because it would be admitting weakness. So, against common sense and all reason, Nico hauls Leo up onto his feet, wrapping an arm around his skinny waist. Leo caught on pretty quickly, balancing them out by curling his arm around Nico's shoulders. The contact was almost enough for Nico to flinch away, but he pushed it down.

“You know,” Nico grunted as they stumbled down the stairs to the lower deck, “For a guy two years older than me, you sure are short”

Leo swung his head around to look Nico dead in the eyes, his hazy brown eyes screaming for Nico's untimely demise.

_“¿Cuándo tuviste sentido del humor, la perra”_

Nico had no idea what he just mumbled, but he'll assume it was something rude. Eventually, they made it to Leo's room, which was covered in blueprints and metal and pencils and pieces of paper with schematics stuck to the walls. He could also see sections of the wall around Leo's bed where the walls were completely black, burnt and covered in soot. Leo collapsed into the bed, tumbling over half-done machines and tools that scattered the floor.

Nico gingerly followed him, watching the irregular rise and fall of his chest, until he stood over him. What was he supposed to do now? _Comfort him?_ Nico couldn’t do that. Nico was the _son of Hades_ , comfort was not in his skill set. Maybe some Nectar would help with the pain? Should Nico leave to go get the Nectar and stop looming over Leo’s body like a creep? Should he just _leave?_

“Hey, Nico, could you stop standing over me like you’re going to murder me and go get me some Nectar? Por favor?” Leo grumbled into his pillow, his words muffled.

Nico, happy to have something to do that wasn’t standing around like an idiot, made his way out from the room and to the Infirmary, moving like a shadow through the swaying hallways. It was quiet now, with everyone in their rooms.

Nico liked it here.

Once Leo had thrown back the drink, his eyes glazing over as he drank. He was sitting on his bed, legs crossed, Indian style. Nico stood at the closed door, watching as Leo drank and then threw the flask away into the corner of his room, wiping his mouth.

A pregnant silence ensued.

Then, Leo looked at him, eyes unreadable for a second, before he threw his eyes up to the heavens and scooted a bit to the left on his bed. “Will you stop brooding in the corner like an emo and sit down, di Angelo”

Nico should refuse. Nico and Leo don’t get along. Leo is sociable and open and takes nothing seriously. Nico is a loner, closed-off and serious.

He should refuse.

But Leo, apparently, wasn’t what he appeared to be, and Nico can’t contain the spark of curiosity that swelled in his chest. Also, it had been a long time since anyone voluntarily invited him places. Maybe the last person might have been Percy-

( _Percy is gone, your fault, your fault)_

He sits. The bed sinks underneath his weight. It’s a nice bed.

 _Di immortales_ , Nico should have refused.

Leo smirks at his visible uncomfortableness, turning his body so he’s facing Nico on the bed, his legs still crossed. He looks better. His cheeks have returned to their natural color and his eyes seem normal, and by normal he meant they gave him the aura of ‘ _would do arson if he thought it was funny at the time’_

“So, what do you wanna do now?” begins Leo, “I’ve only ever been at one slumber party and I don’t think we should use that as a basis for normal slumber parties. So, I’m going to go off movies”

Nico only vaguely knew what a slumber party was, and he was both apprehensive and……

A little bit curious.

“So, as our great overlord, Disney Channel Original Movies, have taught us, bitching, food and nail polish are the cornerstones of a successful slumber party, _so_ -”

Leo jumped off the bed, legs wobbling mildly, before he got his balance and smiled back at Nico, eyes twinkling. “I’m raiding the kitchen and Piper’s room. Make sure I reach Elysium if she kills me, di Angelo”

And with that, he was gone, slipping out the door to leave Nico in the silence. The room was lit by the lantern all the rooms had, the enchanted fire giving the room a warm glow. He squirmed on the bed, confused and lost. What was he doing? Hanging around with Leo Valdez? What was he doing hanging around anyone? He was Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, lone wolf.

This was going to go up in flames and disaster.

To distract himself, Nico delicately took off his sword and laid it on Leo’s work-desk, which was pushed to the corner of the room. Minutes passed and Nico began inspecting the room, running his hands over the large burn marks in the wood, which was warped and blackened.

“Nightmares are a bitch, aren’t they di Angelo?”

Nico jerked back, reaching for a sword he didn’t have and came face to face with a grinning Leo Valdez. His arms were laden with food, from chips to chocolate. Nico fumbled for an answer, his cheeks reddening, “I-uh, It’s-”

Leo snorted and let the food tumble from his arms down to the bed, “Calm thy tits, Nico, it’s all good”

Nico frowned at him.

Leo grinned back.

Leo plonked himself back on his original spot, legs tucked underneath each other, and he tore open something called a _Fonzie._ Nico stared at him. Leo’s cheeks puffed with Fonzies. “Shs d’w’s,” he said, mouth full and Nico grimaced, but complied, sitting across from him on the bed.

“Now,” he said, swallowing the rest of his foes, “my young padawan, we paint and bitch”

“Paint? What?”

At this Leo smirked and pulled a small vial out of his hoodie pocket. The vial was circular, with sparkly gold liquid inside.

“Our nails, dumbass, now scoot close and gimme your hand”

Nico was conflicted. Nail polish was a girl thing. They were both dudes. Nico pondered just shadow-traveling away, but Leo’s eyebrow raise stopped him. Leo, sensing his hesitation, rolled his eyes, but began on his own nails instead, brush delicately flying over his nails, leaving sparkling gold in its wake.

“So, on with the next step, the _bitch”_

“The…..the bitch?”

Leo, stared at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape before he pulled himself back together and continued with his nails.

“The _Bitch,_ youngling, is a series of events where you vent about your problems to me and we diss people you hate, or we try to find solutions to problems you have while inhaling carbs like oxygen”

Nico thinks he knows what Leo is talking about.

He picks up a piece of chocolate, eats it and then stares at Leo again, “I don’t think I have problems that need….” he grimaces, “bitching about”.

Leo snorts again, almost spilling the vial of polish everywhere. “Okay, man, whatever you think yourself”

Nico scowls at Leo and Leo grinned back.

“Do you have any problems, Leo?”

Was this the correct way of doing things? Was there etiquette involved in this? Leo’s grin dimmed slightly, his hands pausing in its work of painting his nails, eyes far away for a split second.

“Hey, Nico, you can keep secrets right?” Leo asked, voice light and airy, but Nico could hear the brittleness underneath, like dangerous currents underneath a calm sea.

“Yes.”

Leo laughed at his deadpan, but if Leo told him something right now, Nico would carry it to his grave and beyond it.

Leo shifted, finishing his last nail, before breathing out a sigh and putting away the vial. “How about a game, Nico. You tell me a secret, something you’ve never told anyone, and I’ll tell you something in return”

An exchange.

Nico bristled, on guard. Was this just a ploy to get Nico to spill his secrets, to loosen his tongue, to reveal vulnerabilities?. Then he looked back at Leo, who was staring at him, warm brown eyes on guard. Leo had a weird face. If Nico had to describe it, he'd compare Leo to a nymph. He didn't have the same earthly calmness, but Leo looked like a nymph. He had the same high cheekbones with big eyes and a willowy body.

“Fine. But you go first”

Leo didn't answer him for a moment, eyes calculating before he shrugged his shoulders and opened a new packet of _Fonzies._

“Do you know that in some cultures, 7 is considered a bad number?”

Nico sure hoped this wasn’t Leo’s big secret, or else this was going to be an incredibly bland conversation. Leo turned a _Fonzie_ over in his fingers, studying the yellow-coated sticks like a particularly bad machine, his gold nail polish complementary to the gold-yellow of the _Fonzie_.

“When we first started this quest, after….” Leo made a face, his lips downturned, “after I bombed New Rome and started the War, the Argo was badly damaged, so we had to make a stop. We found this Island near the Great Salt Lake with enough Celestial Bronze on it to fix the Ship. Your sister and I go to the Island, meet Narcissus, steal the bronze, it’s a whole family, fun-filled adventure,” he said, his voice bláse. Nico was good at reading people, but right now, Leo was a blank slate with a smile on. It was unnerving.

“On the Island, we also met Nemesis, y’know, goddess of revenge and balance and all that fun crap. She said some shit, some posturing about her ability to stay sane ‘cause revenge is a universal concept or something. She also..she called me _‘the Seventh Wheel_ ’ and that _‘I would never find a place among my brethren_ ,” he said, cynical and bitter, which was two emotions Nico thought him previously incapable of. “So, Nemesis really knows how to cheer on her saviors, amiright?”

Nico felt like they were getting closer to Leo's secret. It obviously had something to do with Nemesis, which put Nico on edge. Nemesis was fair and ruthless, but Leo didn't seem to have anyone he wanted revenge against.

“Nemesis? Do you want revenge against someone?”

Leo looked Nico in the eyes for a quick second, brown meeting brown before he looked down at his already chipped nail polish. “Yeah, I want revenge against a _lot_ of people but not so much the goddess of revenge has to get involved. Like, my list is _long,_ dude. Gaia, my Aunt, people I've met on the streets, the entirety of the American Foster Care System, Teresa, but she wasn't there to, like, kill off the people I hate. She was there to make a deal, like an ‘ _eye for an eye’_ kind of deal. She gave me this cookie. It could give me the answer to any problem I wanted, but there would be a price”

The pit in Nico's chest that's always been a part of him is growing. He really doesn't like where this is going.

Leo flops back into his bed, his eyes directed at the ceiling so Nico can't see his face anymore. “When we went to go rescue you-”

~~( _He can't breathe, the old air in his chest sticks to his lungs and his throat closes and opens in desperation. He can't breathe_ )~~

“Me, Haze and Frank went into this secret workshop in this church. It's where I got my Archimedes Sphere. But. When we were in the workshop we got cornered by these eidolons possessing these badass automatons. So, I needed a way out and the only way we could get out was with the Sphere, but it had a code and I didn't know it” he said, his voice quiet.

Nico sat, still as he could. He had his knees pulled up to his chest and his chin was resting on his knees, making himself small on Leo's bed. He could hear that Leo wasn't happy right now and that made him uncomfortable. Nico couldn't comfort Leo. That wasn't what Nico was built to do.

“So I used Nemesis’ stupid fucking cookie,” he says like Confession, like he's asking _penance_ from Nico for some kind of sin. “I used it to save Frank and Hazel and my own ass because I wasn't quick enough to figure out the sphere” he spits and Nico sees his fists tighten in the sheets like he's using up all his will power not to punch something.

Nico doesn't know what to say. Except he does. _Hades_.

“What was the price?”

Leo sits up, suddenly, throwing Nico off. He looks fine, physically. His skin is a healthy deep brown and there only small bags under his eyes, but Nico would have to be completely inept to disregard the turmoil in Leo's eyes.

“ _An eye for an eye,_ ” he sing-songs, pitching his voice in a parody, “ _leaves the whole world blind, Leonidas_ ”. Leo's eyes are fiery but his demeanor has shifted, changing into its usual carefree attitude, throwing Nico off completely. “Can't even remember who said that to me. Might've been one of the graveyard shift workers at New Hope. They always had a habit of spitting out stuff like that when I did stupid shit, like the time-”

“Leo,” Nico growls over Leo's sudden u-turn, “ _what was the price”_

Leo stopped his mindless babbling and focused his gaze on his workbench, his curls obscuring Nico's view of his eyes.

Nico stood.

“If you aren't going to say anything, I guess I'll go, right? Nothing much more to say?”

Nico grabbed his sword off the bench, sheathing it. He could feel his fingers itch, the urge to attack Leo because he _promised._ He came up with this stupid little rendezvous and it's _Leo_ who backs out at the last moment.

“Di immortales, you're the one who started this Leo and _now_ you chicken out,” he growls, turning to storm out, to go back to hiding in the crows Nest because everyone on this ship except Hazel is _infuriating-_

“Percy and Annabeth”

Nico stops dead and there's a joke there.

“You wanted to know the price?” Leo says, voice emotionless, eyes obscured and his body almost curled in on itself, “there you go. An eye for an eye, a couple for a couple. I might’ve ‘saved’ Hazel and Frank but I damned Percy and Annabeth to fucking _Tartarus_ ”

Nico’s mind is in free-fall. It makes sense, of course it does, but that doesn’t stop the bad taste rising up in his mouth. He’s aware he looks like an idiot, just standing there, mouth parted and eyes wide.

He reined in his emotions, clearing his face and stepped away from the door, feet hesitantly padding on the floor. 

“Thank you for saving my sister”

Leo looked up at him, his eyes were cloudy. “I might’ve killed them, di Angelo”

“They’re not dead”

Leo snorted and crawled up onto his knees and then onto his feet, so he was eye level with Nico. “Yet. It’s hell, right? You were there and you _barely_ survived before being kidnapped by the giant’s version of _Dumb and Dumber_ and now they’re not trying to kidnap them, they’re trying to _kill them”_

Nico scowls.

Leo rolled his eyes, his skin smoking slightly as he showed his visible agitation. “Your turn, di Angelo. Give me a secret, something you’ve never told anyone”

The breath catches in Nico’s throat.

Nico believes in signs, he has to if he wants to stay alive and not be devoured by monsters, and this couldn’t be a bigger sign even if someone had placed a bright neon sign over the question. But Nico can’t tell Leo….. _that._ He can’t. Leo would look at him differently, treat him differently, look at him as an even bigger freak.

“Well, come on di Angelo, we don’t have all….night? I guess it’s like morning-”

Nico crosses his arms and stares Leo down and Leo’s talking slowly stops as Nico pins him down with his eyes. If Nico tells him, Leo might tell everyone else and that’s Nico’s biggest concern because while Leo treating him like a freak would be bad it wouldn’t be different from how Valdez treats him right now.

“Swear it. Swear it on the Styx you won’t tell anyone. Ever”

Leo looks at him, eyebrow cocked in a perfect curve. “We really doing that? The whole magic death river thing?”

Nico felt his blunt nails dig into the meat of his hand, his scowl deepening. “Yes, we are. Now say it”. A pregnant pause followed, ballooning in the not-so-quiet quiet. Leo’s face was shadowed, the latern casting long shadows over the mostly dark room. Nico refused to back down, facing Leo down. They were the same height, even though Leo was almost two years older, so it was easy to stare him down.

“Fine, Jesus, you are anal about this blood-pact stuff-”

“ _I_ _t’s not a blood-pact-”_

“But I’ll entertain your weird little Emo needs. So let's go, Marilyn”

Nico didn’t know why Leo was comparing him to Marilyn Monroe and he didn’t _want_ to know.

Leo coughed and cleared his throat, pretending to dust some invisible dust bunnies off his shoulders. “I, Leonidas Valdez- by the way, if you tell anyone that’s my name I’ll kill you- swear on the River Styx to keep Nico di Angelo’s secret a secret until the day I die”.

Thunder boomed overhead, muffled by the thick wooden walls of the ship. Leo looked at him expectantly, eyes scouring his face as Nico stood stock still.

"Well, c'mon. I did the freaky-deaky magic ritual, what more do you want? I'm not doing a blood-pact with you, dude"

Nico had to stop himself from snarling at Leo. It took Leo a while to build up to his, so why wasn't Nico allocated some time?. He swallowed heavily, his throat and mouth suddenly dry. His heart is thundering in his chest, hitting off his rib-cage in a quick drumbeat. Can he do this? Can he just _tell_ Leo a secret he's kept for years? It seems impossible, it seems too much to comprehend.

His eyes are wide and he's struggling to keep his breath even, so he doesn't alert Leo to his distress. Gods, he really is pathetic, isn't he? He isn't even able to keep a _promise_ without freaking out-

" _Fuck,_ di Ang- Nico-"

His skin is floating away from his bones and he feels feverish. He's standing but something is guiding him towards the bed he can see out of the corner of his fuzzy vision. His ass hits the bed and he's not hyperventilating yet but he feels…gone. His skin is too tight and too hot and his mind is running at a million miles per hour but he doesn't actually know what he's thinking about.

"Nico, hey, I ain't gonna touch you but I need you to listen to me, alright?"

He looks up at Leo, who is sitting beside him, but not close enough to touch. He can't concentrate on him but he catches his words, which take a minute to compute. They're much more real than the words whizzing around in his brain, so he fixes his hazy gaze on Leo's forehead.

"I need you to focus on me and my breathing. In for four, hold for four, out for four, okay? You're okay, Nico. This isn't going to last. You will be okay"

His words are nice. He follows them and tries to copy to his best, Leo's breathing. He stays close, but far away enough that he doesn't actually touch Leo. His mouth tastes like nothing and some unexplainable taste at the same time and his mind starts to push through the fog. He blinks in quick succession like he's waking up.

He immediate hates himself as soon as he gathers his senses. His skin is pale but he feels too hot but he’s pretty sure there’s a faint blush on his cheeks. Did he really have to do that because Leo asked him a gods damned question? Gods, he really knows how to be loner incapable of anything much.

He opens his mouth, to apologize to Leo, but he beats him to it.

“If you try to apologize to me, I will punch you, di Angelo”

Nico blinks at him, eyes emotionless. How did he know? Leo’s eyes are a mix of that lingering playfulness that follows him around like a shadow, but there’s a mix of worry and something else. Something that’s simmering beneath his eyes. It’s unnerving and Nico’s been seeing it as long as he’s known Leo. That means ever since…..Rome. It’s like…..

It’s like there’s a ghost underneath Leo’s skin. Not exactly an eidolon but it isn’t Leo. It’s lurking underneath his eyes and makes his eyes seem bottomless. Maybe Leo has always had it? Nico hasn’t known him long enough to say otherwise.

"Uh, Nico, you in there? Blink once for yes twice for-”

“Yeah,” he croaks, his throat dry, “I’m...here. Look-”

Valdez suddenly, and loudly shushes him, startling Nico almost off the bed. “Nico, if you apologize, you will be making an impromptu family trip to your Dad in down-under,” he says, voice lilting but his eyes hard. “And I’m not talking out Australia. Also, fuck this game. I got what I needed to get off my chest. Whatever you have on your mind is obviously, like, bad”

Nico is almost amused by his Secret being referred to as _‘obviously, like, bad_ ’. Leo shifts on the bed, running his hand through his curls, throwing them into disarray. “I ain’t gonna force you to tell me anything, ese, but maybe you should talk to your sister about it? If it’s bothering you this much you should probably tell someone?”

Nico nods, but he can’t bring himself to agree. Leo catches his eyes, bottomless but warm brown meeting almost-black and he tries to convey something but Nico doesn’t want Leo’s pity. He gives up and stands up, offering his hand to Nico.

“It’s pretty early, but I’m sure we can sneak in some nap-time if we hurry”

His hand is a warm, dark brown, like rich earth. The palms are covered in callouses and scars and nicks, pink and white, stark against his warm skin. He can barely see the gold of his painted nails

He takes it.

  


* * *

 

Leo used to _like_ turtles.

Now if he ever looks at another turtle, all he’ll be able to see is a relative of this huge motherfucker. Of course, Leo had backed his Ship into a dead end and now, Hazel and Jason were convening with Turtle’s, arrow-shooting owner on top of the white, shining cliff, illuminated by daylight.

Leo is pacing in the dining room, unable to start repairs to his Baby. Frank is above deck, in all his new-muscled, tight-shirted glory- ahem, watching the cliffs with Piper. Hedge is in his room, presumably watching a martial arts movie and leisurely passing the time.

He’s in the dining room with di Angelo. Apparently, they did not have time to nap and instead were immediately attacked by the supersized version of Raphael from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Brilliant.

Nico looks even worse for wear, his dark, fluffy hair has moved from artfully-messy to just plain messy. The intense purple bruises under his eyes enhance his gauntness and his incredibly pale skin. Fuck, Leo wants to force-feed him _Pozole_ and vitamin tablets until he looks human again.

While Leo paces, wondering what the hell that Turtle did to his ship, Nico lounges on a chair, legs thrown over one arm.

“How can you be so _calm”_ he hisses to Nico, who lazily takes in Leo’s frazzled state, from his disordered hair and rumped t-shirt and jeans, from his wide eyes and bitten lips.

“I trust my sister to take care of it. She’s strong. So is Jason, if I remember correctly”

Nico makes sense, so he scowls at him. He knows they’re both capable and smart but he’s pretty sure he had an aneurysm when that arrow made a groove in Jason’s hair, _holy shit._

His legs refused to stay still, the black-coffee from earlier tearing through his nervous system. God, he should stop drinking coffee. He’s tapping out the Morse _S.O.S_ on his crossed arms, fingers banging off the skin of his upper arm. He’s ansty, his chest tight for no particular reason. God, for Croatia, this place sure is cold. Maybe he should heat himself up.

He stops in his pacing and pushes his fire to the surface of his palm, heat bursting forth from the small, flickering fire in the center of his hand. His bones rattle with the lingering cold.

Leo is cold-

His breath catches and his knees feel week and brittle, because-

“ ‘Ello, Leonidas. Been doin dandy since we last had our chat, yeah?”. His fire snuffs out, suddenly and he looks up. English Guy is there, in all his Medival Fair and English glory. The arrows are gone, but his eyes are still kerosene-fulled nightmares.

“Who….Who are you?” he’s whispering and he doesn’t know why but maybe it’s because English Guy’s presence feels like an anvil on his chest.

English Guy frowns, stepping closer to Leo. The heat radiating off him is so hot it’s cold and it makes Leo’s cold skin tingle with dull pain. “Oh, come now Leonidas. You’re meant to be his Pride and Joy and you can’t even recognize me?”.

Suddenly, like Leo’s been plunged into cold water, his chest contracts and his anger bubbles up, frothing at surface level. “Well, I’m sorry I can’t recognize you, you fucking apparition. I have no idea who you are or what you are-”

He’s close, close enough that Leo can feel his skin start to hurt. He looks down at Leo, his breath fanning over Leo’s face, his eyes tearing into Leo’s. Leo needs to escape, needs to run because he can’t breathe-

“Oh, calm down, Thomas and leave the boy alone”

The voice is that of a girl, young and Leo can’t see her until ‘Thomas’ backs off. She’s young, maybe Hazel’s age, with dark curly hair and pale skin. She has the same eyes as Tom, but they seem less intense.

“Hello, Leonidas. My name is Lucy, this is Thomas and we need to tell you that you need to keep the Kopis sword close to you if you want to survive this War”

His forearm and upper arm tingles and his face is pale in shame. Why should I trust you?” he says like this conversation is at all normal. He’s talking to his probable hallucinations-

( _like Hanna)_

“Oh, you shouldn’t,” says Lucy and they flicker, like a glitch in the Universes’ Matrix and disappears.

  
  



End file.
